Fish and Tweets
by BlessyJahne
Summary: It all started with strange silence and a micro-blogging site. And just like two opposite poles that attract - wherever one goes, the other one "follows". Post VwD Dasey.
1. Chapter 1: When Derek Meets Twitter

**A/N**: _Okay, so it's my first fanfic ever. Haha, please be gentle with me. I've been meaning to post this since last summer but I was so busy with school. In fact, I have finals coming up and here I am on FF(dot)net, procrastinating. Anyway, enough of that. I've been wanting to base this story off of Derek and Casey's conversations on Twitter. I love these two! Go follow them if you haven't already: Derek - http:/twitter(dot)com/DerekVenturi and Casey - http:/twitter(dot)com/LifeWithCasey (Just replace the "dot" with an actual dot, but you know what I mean, LOL). I give them the credits to all of the "tweets" I'm going to include here, unless otherwise noted. This is THEIR story and THEIR plot; I just added the stuff in the background that I can't technically see on Twitter.  
_

_This is set right after "Vacation with Derek", before Derek and Casey move to Kingston to study at Queen's. If I remember correctly, Casey (LifeWithCasey) said she decided not to go to New York with Jesse. Forgot the reason, have to search the tweets. So, read on and enjoy._

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Life with Derek. Sadly. And Twitter or the tweets (again, unless otherwise noted).

**Chapter 1: When Derek Meets Twitter**

Trotting down the stairs to get a light afternoon snack in the kitchen, Casey came down to find an unusually quiet place. No TV, no music, no.. anything. This was not the typical Monday afternoon that she's used to seeing. _Did everyone leave without telling me? _Scrunching her eyebrows while stretching her neck to search for any life form present in the area, she spotted something – although, she could've sworn this does not exactly fit in the category of "life form". More like, should-not-exist-in-this-world kind of form. She let out a heavy sigh and walked down the rest of the plight of stairs, brushing past this "life form's" niche and stopping right in front of it. _Blech - well, this is something, alright. _ Weirdly, a mild and lightning fast jolt of pain pinched the leftmost part of her chest, and her heart pounded a little. It's as if she just hit a nerve that isn't supposed to be touched. Ignoring this odd sensation, she continued staring at the seemingly immovable person sitting comfortably in his recliner, eyes blankly staring at the phone he was holding on his right hand while his other hand held the remote control which he seemed to absentmindedly wave and wiggle, hitting the arm of the chair occasionally. Her gaze shifted from the distracting motion of the remote to the black screen of the powered off TV, then back to the.. Derek, who's currently doing a good job in the "Ignore Casey" department, making no efforts whatsoever to recognize her presence.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." exclaimed Derek, after ten minutes of being put into a scrutiny test which made him feel oddly naked for some reason. Not letting his eyes stare up to meet the author of his newly found annoyance – or not really, this is not exactly "new" anyway – he continued pounding his thumb on the screen of his phone, hoping that the large speck of _grubber_ dust will disappear from the face of the earth, or at least from that precious space in front of him. He began to wonder if there's an iPhone app to make an irritating stepsister go away. After all, shouldn't there be an app for everything at this point in time?

"What are you doing?" Casey asked blatantly out of curiosity, dismissing his sarcastic remark and his obviously irritated demeanor. Her eyes focused on his thumb-pounding action, as her arms swung and folded across her chest.

"Since when did my business become your business?" he snarled back, finally lifting his head to face an annoyed-looking Casey who had just change expressions from curious to irked, including some other emotions in between that he couldn't exactly tell.

"I was just asking. You don't have to get all snappy at me," she responded, as he went back to his usual business of oodling on his phone.

"Well, I won't if you start minding your own business," he said while running his thumb back and forth on the screen.

"Well, could you at least tell me where everybody else is?" Casey mentioned, aware that talking to an obviously disinterested Derek will not result in any productivity for the rest of her afternoon. And she likes her afternoons productive.

"No, not really."

"Der-ek!"

Derek rolled his eyes in disbelief and slammed his head on the headrest in frustration.

"Fine," he said, letting out a frustrated sigh, "Edwin, out. Lizzie, out. Dad, Nora, and Marti, out. Satisfied?"

"You are so impossible," Casey said, "I'm trying to have a normal conversation with you here. Can you at least give me a decent answer?"

"Wait, let me think," Derek said, "NO. So, go away already."

Letting out an angry grunt, Casey left the living room and headed to the kitchen to finally get the snack she's come down for. She needed something to cool herself down from the rage that her annoying stepbrother had given her. Thinking that making her favorite strawberry smoothie will ease her thoughts, she reached out for the handle of the fridge. But as she was about to pull the door open, a loud laugh came from where the person _she'd rather not think about right now_ is. The TV is still not on, so she found his sudden outburst weird and somehow alarming. Knowing the usual Derek, he'd be tuning in to some sports program on TV right about now, while munching on chips, cereals, or leftover meatloaf. As much as she wanted to find this new peace-and-quiet in the house comforting and relaxing, it had actually started to make her feel uncomfortable. _What is keeping this jerk occupied? He hasn't even devoured this entire box of pizza, let alone, touch it._ Closing the lid of the box she found containing half-cold, untouched pepperoni and cheese pizza, she stared at the back of Derek's recliner again, thinking of how and what changed his daily summer routine.

Dismissing the thought in her mind, she continued with what she was about to do. She grabbed a pack of fresh strawberries from the fridge and milk and laid them down on the kitchen island.

Moments later, Derek came barging in the kitchen. Casey, who's half-annoyed at this sudden invasion of personal space and half-intrigued at his short pause of motion, went on with her task of preparing her drink and ignoring him. He eyed her and realized what she was about to make.

To Casey's surprise, Derek grabbed the pack of strawberries from the island.

"Thanks, C," he said, winking at her before making a run for it.

"DER-EK!" she shouted in frustration, accidentally slamming her right hand on the pizza box and squashing the contents.

* * *

_Back to normal Derek_, Casey thought. She didn't exactly know whether to be relieved that he's back to his usual childish, pranking self or extremely angry since said person was also the reason why her hair looked like something that just came out of a horror movie, it being red and all. Just when you think that after the vacation and the "bond" that the family had over at the Great Blue Heron Lodge, the bickering would lessen. The older will be a little more tolerable and the younger will be a little less irritable. Unfortunately, in the McDonald-Venturi residence, such a miracle does not exactly happen - tension does not get resolved after a night of dancing, apparently. Back to reality meant back to the old ways of getting on each other's nerves.

Eager to get out of the bathroom and scream at the culprit, she grabbed the nearest and only towel available and immediately dashed off.

"Der-ek!"

"Whoa there, woman. Okay, I do NOT get paid enough to see you reveal your flesh. Put some clothes on, will you?"

"Shut it, Derek. This is not funny! You changed my shamp-" It took her a few seconds to let the situation register in her brain. She's, after all, standing in front of her stepbrother who barged in her room without permission, not to mention, used her laptop while she was taking a bath. And she's wearing nothing but a towel, but right now, her concern is centered more on his consent-free usage of her personal computer. "What are you doing in my room? Who gave you right to use my laptop? What did you do? Were you snooping at my stuff? Were you reading my private files?"

"Case.. relax, okay? I just needed to go on Twitter really quickly. Seriously, you have some issues."

"I have issues? You were using my laptop! My _personal_ laptop, Derek."

"I told you, I just needed to use it quickly. My computer froze and I can't find my phone, so had to use my final option."

"My laptop is _never_ your option," Casey scowled as she pulled his arm in the hopes that it would remove his butt off her chair. Derek, who felt helpless in his fight to regain position in front of the computer for the last time, struggled to leave a large amount of space in between his body and her towel.

"Stay away from my stuff and stay out of my room!"

Derek was about to say something else, but her door approached his face faster than he could utter a syllable. "Damn."

"There is never a privacy in this place!" She screamed as she shut the door after kicking him out. It's not that she really minded him hanging around and barging in her space every once in a while – or every single day, really. It's the fact that he was a click away from reading things that no one was supposed to read, not even him, especially not him. Desperately finding an outlet for her sudden emotional build up, she shifted her focus on the LED light of the monitor of her unintentionally opened laptop which she now found irritating. Striding towards her desk, she's about to shut it down when she noticed what Derek forgot to close or actually log out of – his Twitter account.

_| DerekVenturi: Casey's screaming right now. I replaced her shampoo with ketchup and her soap with butter. Derek = 1, Space Case = 0. Heh!_

"That twisted, arrogant, self-centered jerk! Did he really have to post this for the whole world wide web to see!"

_Well, two can play that game._ Casey thought as she hit the "Sign Up" button, not knowing exactly what she's signing up for or what use it would be for her life. After all, she's not that much of a fan of social media sites. She maintained a simple blog, but that's about it when it came to online interaction. What would be better than good old classic diary-keeping where thoughts flow with every swish of the pen? Whatever Twitter is, she'd figure out later, but if Derek has one, it's only natural that she has one, too.

_| LifeWithCasey: I figured I need a twitter in order to a) annoy my stepbrother (at)DerekVenturi & b) make sure he wasn't posting embarrassing things about me!_

Rather pleased with her short post, she let out a sly smile as she signed out of the website. _Two.. can play that game._

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry, it's really not that eventful. But I hope it gets better in the next few chapters! I need to figure out how to do the changing POV too. Maybe I'll include more intro/background on the next chapter. But yeah. So, let me know what you think so far.


	2. Chapter 2: Virtual Bickering?

**A/N**: For those who are not familiar with Twitter, an **(at)** or "at" symbol (which doesn't work on FF for some reason) is just placed in front of a username to tag people. So whenever you see **(at)**, that's what I'm trying to show. I've patterned it a little differently so that it won't get too confusing for those who don't use that site. If you see the letters "**RT**", it only means that the person is repeating what the another person is saying and sometimes adding little comments in front of those letters (depending on the user). The comments, for this story's purposes, will be in **bold** letters. So anyway! Sorry to get all technical on you, but hope that clears some things up a bit.

I've also tweeked (and added) some of the tweets in this chapter to fit the story, but still, most of them are taken from the actual Dasey Twitters. Ah, what else. I think that's about it. ENJOY!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Life with Derek. And Twitter and most of the tweets posted here - Property of (at)DerekVenturi and (at)LifeWithCasey.

**Chapter 2: Virtual Bickering?**

"WHAT!" Derek's startled reaction caused him to cough out the rest of the popcorn he had just put in his mouth. Usually, when a girl followed him on Twitter (or in real life, really), he would go on a smug-fest and be all too confident for hours, not that he didn't do much of this everyday, but it was very much an ego-booster. Except if it was Emily, because stalking in person was creepy already. But this. This name was not what he wanted to see online, on a site where he could possibly have the freedom to finally say what he wanted to say, whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted – Casey McDonald, resident-keener, head of "annoy Derek" department. _Is there even a place in this world where I can't be bothered by this person? Seriously._ He thought as he went on to rant about this inconvenience that had been present in the household for four years now.

_| DerekVenturi: Excuse me? Who told you to invade my "No Casey" zone? I've had enough of you in reality. Now, let's see... go away, (at)LifeWithCasey. _

Rolling his eyes and smirking, he thought of how Casey could be the perfect leader for his fan club. She just couldn't stay away. After throwing him out of her room and telling him to stay out, it should be clear that he wasn't allowed to meddle with anything that has to do with her. At least that's what people with common sense would think. What would people with common sense do? Exactly the opposite of what Casey just did. Clearly, there was nothing common about their relationship. And now, she decided to stalk him online and ruin his virtual tough guy rep, too. _There is never a privacy in this place! _He groaned and stared at her username once more. Great, they might just have found a much needed extension for their daily brawling sessions.

In the room adjacent to his, Casey read the current tweet that showed up on her timeline. She just finished reading the Twitter basics in the Help section of the site, but was still debating with herself as to how to actually get started. Microblogging wasn't her forte. With her love for writing, it's only proper that she shouldn't be placed within the bounds of character limit. She figured that maybe following the people that Derek followed would help her. Apparently, more than half, if not all, of the people he followed were girls. _Typical_, she thought.

_| LifeWithCasey: __Derek! I won't bother you... that much. I don't want you posting rude things about me! After all, you're the lord of the lies._

_| DerekVenturi: Yeah, well, my business is NONE of your business. My world doesn't revolve around you so don't flatter yourself, "sister". _

_

* * *

_

And so their online quarreling went on and on, which meant that the house was a little more quiet than usual.

"A little eerie, if you'd ask me," Edwin told Lizzie after noticing the living room void of any sign of the two older stepsiblings. He moved towards Derek's recliner and inspected it. "Cold and relatively clean. Yep, he's been away for a while."

"Derek and Casey left the house?" George said while hooking his coat. "Casey didn't inform me of anything," Nora answered, sharing the curiosity of the other family members.

"Well, at least they didn't leave a mess," George shrugged and lounged himself on the couch. Nora glanced over the ficus plant, expecting remnants of another highly-concealed fight – like leftover meatloaf – only to find it free of said food or anything out of the ordinary. "Yeah, this is very odd," she said. "I'm liking this afternoon already," George let out a chuckle and rested his feet on the coffee table.

_| DerekVenturi: __**Lame.**__ RT (a)LifeWithCasey We're having a book club later! We're reading the second "Sisters of the White Cave"! AH, I'm so excited! _

_| LifeWithCasey: __**Skirt chasing cad.**__ RT (a)__DerekVenturi__ "The guy you'd have angry hot sex with: Derek Venturi." (Whoever wrote this, meet me at Smelly Nelly's at 5pm.)_

_| DerekVenturi: Jealous much? Can I help it if I'm too sexy? Exactly. Now, I'd like my timeline to be less Casey-y, so... shooo._

_| LifeWithCasey: Whatever, Derek. I could have any boy I wanted... I'm just picky, that's all. I'm going out in a bit, anyway. So wish granted._

_| DerekVenturi: Oh! That's very uh, let's see, yeah - I'm not interested. Bye._

Suddenly becoming aware of other people's presence in the house, both of them snapped back to reality and started preparing for their appointments that afternoon.

"I'm going out!" Two loud voices from upstairs exclaimed at the same time after a few minutes, followed by one loud door slam – yes, Derek's. Everybody else downstairs directed their attention to where the sound came from. A hint of relief upon the return of a familiar vibe overcame the entire household. And then there came the familiar annoyance.

"Will you stop following me? That means on Twitter and in real life. What are you, my stalker?" Derek exclaimed as he pushed her slightly out of the way to walk down the stairs.

"Excuse me? I am NOT following you! I'm going to a book club, not a strip bar. I'm not even sure if you'd be allowed to enter one. Seeing you getting kicked out would be highly entertaining though," Casey retorted, pushing him back and making him almost stumble.

"Oh, you're trying to be funny now, huh? Just stay out of my sight until I'm 30," said Derek, regaining his balance and making his way towards the coat rack to get his black leather jacket. Rolling her eyes at his remark, she made her own way to the door. But before she could get past the post, Derek quickly placed his left hand against it, blocking her and stopping her from going any further. "Delete or I'll hack into your account and delete it myself," he said in a voice that was almost too faint to register or even hit her eardrums and get picked up by her hearing senses. If this was meant to be a threat, it certainly didn't get through. This could be due to the fact that this previously mentioned sense was considered negligible compared to the millions of other senses shouting 'danger, danger, danger' or the other million busy giving her '_cutis anserina' _or goose bumps in normal talk. Maybe because this sudden and alarming closeness of their bodies sent her into a weird trance where all she could hear was the chirping of birds and the buzzing of bees. _Stop it, Casey! You're losing it!_

"Whatever, you don't own the Internet, D. So, I'd shut up if I were you," Casey broke away from the uncomfortableness of this setup and the feeling that was so unfamiliar. Or maybe too familiar, that it's getting too uncomfortable for her taste.

"Spoke too soon," George sighed at the sight of the teenagers going about with their daily argument.

"Casey, Derek, stop it," Nora scolded the two who were seemingly too oblivious or too busy to even acknowledge their presence until she uttered those words.

"Sorry, Mom. I'm going out to meet with Em and a few girls. Book club meeting," Casey's apology earned the consent of her mother, along with a tiny reminder about a few errands to run.

Derek just returned the reprimand with a smirk and another door slam.

* * *

_|LifeWithCasey: So my curfew tonight was supposed to be 11. I'm 9 minutes late, but no one seemed to notice. Hopefully I'm safe! :) _

_|LifeWithCasey: Oh god. I just realized that Derek might see that tweet and use it against me. How do you delete? _

Panic overrode Casey's initial feeling of fulfillment after she had managed to sneak in without getting caught. Not that anyone would care about her missing her curfew, she was the one who set them anyway. Now that she had cut all her connections with Truman, she felt that it was necessary to revert to her old usual curfew-setting, curfew-loving self. Didn't Sensitive Derek say before that if you feel like you've changed, then you have to change back? Or something in between those lines. _Oh, I cannot believe I'm listening to Derek. _Rolling her eyes at the sudden, uncalled-for but reasonable thought that had come across her mind in the middle of her panicking mode, she desperately searched for an answer in the Help section, letting the idea of simply hovering the cursor over the tweet to show the delete button slip her mind.

_| DerekVenturi: You, princess, are the worst sneaker in history. I'd tell on you if I were home right now. Who are you with? I bet you're with that Truman guy again._

Too late, Triple D had spoken. _Speaking of the devil. Who's oddly talking about his co-devil._ She thought. Not letting the reply slide, she decided to give him a piece of her mind.

_| LifeWithCasey: You'd tell on me? Really? I thought you were above that, Venturi. And no, I was not out with Truman. Did you even hear what I said a while ago? I was at a book club meet._

_| DerekVenturi: Oh! Says the girl who tries to sneak in without getting caught 'cause she came home past her curfew. How entertaining. Good, 'cause that guy is a stupid moron. Tell him not to call me "D" again, or else I'll introduce him to my fist. _

_| LifeWithCasey: Well excuse me for being approximately 9 minutes late! And where might you be, sir? Still on your hot date?_

_| DerekVenturi: Of course. I must say, she really did mean it when she said she'd like to have angry hot sex with me. ;)_

_| LifeWithCasey: If that wasn't the most disturbing visual I've ever had, then I don't know what is. Thank you ever so much, "bro."_

_| DerekVenturi: You're welcome. ;) I'm very "shocked" that you would even try to imagine that. You dirty-minded, you._

_| LifeWithCasey: Your outstanding moral integrity never ceases to impress me. Your date must be thrilled that you would choose twitter over her _

_| DerekVenturi: Hah. Casey, Casey, Casey, you don't get it, do you? She is on a date with ME. She's lucky to be going out with ME. If I go on Twitter right now, she would not complain because she's with ME. So, keep your thoughts to yourself. _

_| LifeWithCasey: Contrary to popular belief, Derek, I'm not a total prude. I still wish you wouldn't have told me, though._

_| DerekVenturi: What? You had to ask if I'm still on my hot date. I answered you, and I get all this. Make up your mind, princess._

_| LifeWithCasey: Ah, Derek. You would think that such a small brain would get lonely in such a big head. _

_| LifeWithCasey: Well are you coming home any time soon? I'm not worried. I'm just... concerned for your date's sake. _

_| DerekVenturi: Ah, Casey, you cut me deep. I'm so honoured to be dissed by you. Almost home, make yourself useful & open the back door. _

_| LifeWithCasey: Alright... But if I get caught, all the blame goes on you! I don't need a week of seeing nothing but the walls of my room._

_

* * *

_

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Derek muttered as he parked the car in the garage. The date wasn't really that eventful; he just met up with Kendra and a few of her blonde lady friends. In the 'eye candy' category, they definitely passed with flying colors, but there's just no.. "spark!" he finished his thought with a frustrated grunt. For someone who had been in the dating scene for sixteen years (yeah, since two), one would think that he had gotten everything figured out. But every time he went past the first stage, there was just no other stage to explore – no excitement, no '_je ne sais quoi'_, as Casey would put it.

"Ow," he cried as he accidentally knocked his knee on the edge of the bumper.

_Casey._ How could he even begin to explain Casey? Well, for one, she would always pop in his mind and, sometimes, in the most inappropriate situations. Like right now, there shouldn't be any Casey in his brain. But, of course, he'd justify this by saying, "She's going to open the door for me, duh? It's perfectly normal." Before he could entirely lose his sanity from overthinking, he took out his phone and tweeted her back.

_| DerekVenturi: Enough with the yapping. Let me in alreadyyyy. _

_| LifeWithCasey: Who's the whiner now, Venturi? I don't even know why I do these nice things for you when all you do is complain about me. _

| _DerekVenturi: I don't think it's proper for you to share your curses, especially the curse of whining. So, I'd rather not be called a whiner. This is not whining, this is a reasonably justified form of impatience._

_| LifeWithCasey: Do you want me to let you in or not? If you don't stop insulting me I'll make you climb through the window._

_| DerekVenturi: Ooh, touchy. Fine, let me in._

"It's about time!" Derek pushed the door right after Casey left it ajar before heading back upstairs. Annoyed at her stepbrother's ungrateful behavior, she turned around to face him.

"Has it not come across your huge, empty head that it is not my obligation to unlock the door for you?"

"Has it not come across your huge, full-of-lame-ideas head that it is not your obligation to worry about me and/or my date?"

He was right. Casey knew he was right. It really wasn't her obligation to worry about his date or him. It wasn't her obligation to stay up at two in the morning just so she could open the door for him just in case he forgot his keys. It wasn't even her obligation to even think about these things. But, isn't her status as a caring family member credible enough to let her have the right to worry about certain stepbrothers – like Edwin? Or Derek? Not wanting to be plagued by any more unpleasant thoughts for the night, she left the kitchen and went up the stairs without saying another word.

Still staring at the empty spot where the other participant in the conversation was once standing, Derek began to wonder why she did not respond to his comment. It wasn't like he said something wrong. _Right?_ He thought. The clinking sound of the car keys that fell from his pocket startled him and brought him back to reality. Closing the door behind, he whistled his way to the stairs, shrugging the previous incident off his system.

"Girls."


	3. Chapter 3: Tension and Tweets

**A/N: **First of all, thanks so much for the reviews! They mean a lot to me. And ah, oh my gosh. I've been having a hard time making it an _okay_ chapter. This one is really heavy with emotions, but the next one would hopefully be lighter. Please keep the reviews coming!

Again, I've tweeked some of the tweets to fit the story. It's a tad different from the original in terms of the series of events but it's still the same plot. Had a bit of a hard time filling up Derek's tweets because DerekVenturi deleted his first account (and the tweets :[ ), so I had to get clues and ideas from LifeWithCasey's tweets. _I still love you DerekVenturi, don't worry._ Also, the way the tweets are written might be a bit confusing, since I simplified it. If you see them posting something in the third person or something factual, or yeah, then it wasn't exactly meant to be directed at the person. It's just a tweet. Eg. Casey's "It's way past 10 pm" - It's not exactly for Derek, she's just blogging it (If you get confused, let me know).

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Life With Derek. Unless I earn a few billion dollars and buy it or something. Anyone wanna pitch in? Tweets owned by LifeWithCasey. Derek's tweets owned by me, inspired by him and LifeWithCasey. I don't own Twitter.

**Chapter 3: Tension and Tweets  
**

Derek could've sworn he assumed every single sleeping position known to mankind already, and yet his eyelids just wouldn't succumb to gravitational force. You know, the one that usually kept him on his recliner every night or during the weekends. Tonight, of all nights, it chose to fail on him. Rolling on his side, he went on a mental ranting and blamed the laws of Physics and the confusing ways of Biology. Tonight, when all he wanted to do was drift off to dreamland and forget about that boring date. Tonight, when all he ever wanted to do was sleep soundly so he could wake up at noon and go about with his daily routine of hitting on random girls on Twitter.

"This is agony!" He faintly complained under his breath, then sat up and scratched his head. He wondered what could be keeping his body awake and stubbornly refusing to go into a deep slumber at four in the morning. _Am I hungry? No. Did I forget to watch TV all day? Hah, no, like I would._ Out of any more ideas, he let his head rest on the headboard.

Moments later, he found himself in front of Casey's door. Why he was there, he had no idea, but if his feet brought him to that place, there must be a very good reason or he might choose to cut his legs off. So far, none of his body parts were responding properly to his command. It was like they all went on strike. He turned the knob as quietly as he could, peered inside and saw a sleeping Casey. Confirming that his moves didn't wake her up, he tiptoed his way towards the bed, stopping just before his knees touched her blanket. He bent down a bit and waved his hand in her face to check if she was really sound asleep. He stared at her intently - strands of hair were resting on her cheeks, her breathing steady and rhythmic. For a moment, he actually felt his fingers inching near her face, aiming to brush the strands off, but he quickly withdrew. _Oh, ew! Whoa, whoa. What was that about? _His eyes shot wide open, nostrils flaring, as he held his breath for what seemed to be the longest minute. Confounded at his abrupt, seemingly involuntary movements, he took a few steps backward and breathed out heavily.

For a second, he wanted to leave the room and withdrew to the comfort of his personal lair. However, this physical vs. psychological battle going on was preventing him from even reaching the door knob. Clearly, it was driving him insane. He curled his fingers into a ball and put the knuckles of his right hand in his mouth, biting it hard and trying not to scream in frustration and irritation. _What the hell is wrong with you, Derek? Get out of there before you get in trouble!__  
_

Scanning the room, not knowing exactly what he wanted to do, his eyes found the planner laying on top of the side table. Instinctively, he grabbed it, sat on the floor, and checked the contents. It still had the important dates from their very last term at SJST, a few summer hangout plans with Emily, Jesse's phone number in New York. _Jesse's phone number in New York? I thought she turned down that offer already. Didn't she?_ He tore that page, crumpled it, and put it in his pocket. Chuckling at his antic, he skipped a few pages to the current date.

"Looks like someone needs a little makeover for later. That can be arranged," Derek whispered to himself, a small smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.

* * *

"DER-EK!" screamed a fuming Casey as the latest mischief got revealed to her early in the morning. Fanning herself with her hands was not helping her calm down at all. _Where's a paper bag when you need it?_ She was not amused and she was definitely ready to lash everything out once she got her long, french-tipped nails near Derek's _sorry_ face.

Casey's scream worked like an alarm clock for everyone, including Derek. Especially Derek, who knew that if he wouldn't increase his defenses, i.e. lock his door, he would probably not live to see who would win the Stanley Cup this year. And he liked to see who would win the most coveted trophy in the history of hockey. _NHL, hello?_ He was in the middle of thinking how The Cup would look _fanfreakingtastic _in his room when he heard loud footsteps approaching his door. In an instant, he threw himself out of bed and locked it so she couldn't enter.

"Derek! You open this door, right now!" Casey pounded loudly after realizing he barred her out. No response, but she could hear him laughing. She came back to her room and stared at her face once again. It was full of marker drawings. _Permanent_ marker. Her eyelids were covered in black ink; a line continued to her forehead where the words 'supposed to be blue eyeshadow' were written. Whiskers were drawn on her cheeks and fangs on her chin. The words 'I just lost my Edward' were also scribbled on her lower left jaw. _Way to mock my love for the Twilight series! _It looked like it was getting more and more ugly every time she checked it out. Frustrated, she rushed to the bathroom to find a way to remove it.

"I am so going to kill you! Get out of your room, now!" Resuming her plan to pound angrily at the door until the villain in her _not-so-much-of-a-fairytale_ life comes out of his hiding, she scanned the hallway for a tool, honestly hoping that a crowbar of some sort would magically appear so she could use it to wreck his door. Alas, all she could find was a pen and it wouldn't be of much use against solid wood. Feeling a little more defeated and seeing that the bane of her existence would not get out of his room any minute, she started for the bathroom once again. She scrubbed her face hard with soap and rinsed it with water. Useless, her face only turned red. "Ugh!"

Derek unlocked his door and checked to see if Casey was still around. Just as he had popped his head on the doorway, Casey emerged from the bathroom and saw him. She immediately launched herself at him but was too slow to grab his hair so she was greeted, again, by the door that said "Keep Out" in bold capitals, taunting and mocking her existence.

| _LifeWithCasey: DEREK! I cannot believe you would do such a barbaric thing!_

_| DerekVenturi: Why so upset, C? Didn't like your makeover courtesy of Maestro Dereko? No offense, but it was very hard to improve your features. You should try face transplant._

_| LifeWithCasey: I am not finding this amusing at all! Not one bit! I have a date tonight and now I can't go if I don't get this marker off! WHY DID YOU USE PERMANENT?_

_| DerekVenturi:What are you complaining about? I did you a favour. If you are not happy with my services, then speak to my manager. Oh wait, I don't have one. Guess you'll have to deal with it._

_| LifeWithCasey: This is the lowest of low. I cannot even fathom the fact that you drew on my face. I can't even get it off! I've tried EVERYTHING._

_| DerekVenturi: Here's a simple solution, cancel your date. Now, get off my sight. Your online whining is flooding up my timeline._

"Idiot!" Her final plan to talk to Derek worked, but she was getting more and more annoyed by the second due to his illogical answers and incapacity to engage in a normal debate and use normal human reasoning. Oh wait, this is Derek, there is nothing normal about this "monster!" She finished her thought verbally. Furious, she rushed to her dresser and tried to cover the black marks and the redness of her face with foundation and concealer.

_| LifeWithCasey: So, it's mostly faded off, and the make-up helps a bit, but I'm still angry. And there is NO way I'm going to cancel my date because of you! _

_| DerekVenturi: Stop putting the blame on me. If you had locked your door last night then I wouldn't have been able to go in. And if you only woke up before I used marker on your face, then all this blabbing wouldn't even be happening right now. Technically, this is your fault!_

_| LifeWithCasey: If YOU weren't such a jerk, maybe I wouldn't be in this situation! This is your fault, and this time I am NOT going to forgive you! Happy?_

_| DerekVenturi: What on earth is your problem? So what if I drew on your face? It's not like I haven't done something worse than that. Take your issues outside! Geesh, at this rate, you will have no followers by tomorrow._

_| LifeWithCasey: What is YOUR problem? It's not just the drawing on the face. It's everything you do to torture me! What have I ever done to you? I don't know why you hate me._

_| DerekVenturi: Why are we even talking about this? I told you, if you have a problem with your face, then cancel your date. How hard is it to do that? _

_| LifeWithCasey: I am not canceling my date and that is final!_

Casey slammed her hand on her desk furiously. She couldn't believe how inconsiderate and evil her stepbrother could be. Getting a little teary-eyed from all the raw emotions she was currently experiencing, she waited for a reply. Nothing. She refreshed her timeline a few times, nothing. Confused and curious as to what he was doing, she decided to confront him. While she about to move from her chair, a reply notification popped out.

_| DerekVenturi: Fine. Whatever, go on your stupid date. I don't really care._

_

* * *

_

"Hey, D," Edwin greeted Derek as they crossed paths near the foot of the stairs. "Going somewhere?"

"Need air."

"Uh, we have plenty of.." Edwin's words got cut off mid-sentence when his older brother slammed the front door behind him "..air in the house."

Upstairs, Casey was feeling very distraught and somehow puzzled at Derek's sudden exit. Since her door was open the whole time, she caught a glimpse of Derek rushing down the stairs, a loud slam following moments after. She hadn't left her chair since she read his reply and was still taking the time to process the events in her brain. Nothing made any sense. _Wasn't I supposed to be the one who's angry? _Arguing with herself while reading his last tweet, she closed her eyes and hoped that when she opened them again, things would go away.

"What's wrong with Derek?" Lizzie walked in her room a few minutes after Derek's weird walk-out. She turned her chair to face her.

"I.." Trying to find a logical answer in her mind to the question posed, she found none. "I don't know."

"Well, he looked really mad," Edwin, hearing their conversation, managed to say a few words before going up to his attic room.

"Is that.. marker on your.."

"Not now, Lizzie."

"Okay, well, I'll be in my room if you need me."

_| LifeWithCasey: Suddenly I don't feel well at all. Maybe... maybe I'm staying home tonight after all. _

Casey let herself fall face down on her bed after closing the door and posting that tweet. She wasn't really concerned anymore that her face still had marks on it, but she was becoming more worried about Derek. By the looks of his temper, he was about to kick anyone who would get in his way.. _What if he gets into an accident? He's such a reckless driver. What if he.. _She grabbed her cellphone from her desk and dialed his number. _No, it'll look like I'm really worried and there might not even be a reason to worry about. _She tossed the phone on her bed and took the closest book she could reach and began reading instead. Although a few sentences into the first chapter, she tossed the book, grabbed her phone once more and dialed Sam's number. Telling herself it wasn't a good idea too, she placed the phone on her side table and made herself comfortable in her bed. A good short nap might just be the solution she was looking for.

* * *

_| LifeWithCasey: Frozen yogurt, listening to Swan Lake, watching Titanic... Nothing helps. I still feel terrible. _

_| LifeWithCasey: It's way past 10 in the evening._

Casey never had that nap. Her eyes couldn't even stay closed for three minutes. It was fairly late in the evening and the family, minus Derek, had already had their dinner. She and the other siblings had been interrogated by Nora and George (and Marti) about his whereabouts, but none of them could give an answer. She was about to make herself go through another round of _Casey, this your fault _mental castigation when she saw a tweet from someone she had been wanting to see all day. _Only, because of this guilt trip!_

_| DerekVenturi: Home! Another awesome gaming session with the dudes, with extra butt-kicking brought to them by yours truly. ;) Is my beloved stepsister home from the suckiest date of them all?_

_| LifeWithCasey: So, apparently the argument earlier never seemed to happen since someone's not acknowledging it. Well... neither did my date._

_| DerekVenturi: Well, that sucks then. Better luck next time._

_| LifeWithCasey: Jeez, Derek. And to think I was actually going to apologize... _

_| DerekVenturi: Apologize for what? I don't even know what you're talking about. There's nothing to apologize for. In fact, what are we doing again?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Typical Derek. Let's run away from our problems rather than face them, shall we? Well if you're not willing to face the facts, neither am I._

_| DerekVenturi: Suit yourself._

Derek wasn't in the mood to talk or argue. As a matter of fact, he wasn't even in the mood for anything other than getting himself comfortably plopped down on his bed. As far as he was concerned, the fight never happened – he didn't draw on Casey's face, she didn't freak at him for ruining her date day, and he didn't angrily rush out of the house. It was just a normal, summer babe-watching day at the mall and an action-filled videogaming night with Sam and Ralph. If he could also forget there was a Casey in this house, he'd forget about that too. Unfortunately, this Casey person was talking to him at that moment. He didn't want to deal with this now, or ever, if possible.

_| LifeWithCasey: So I spend my entire day stuffing my face with frozen yogurt and freaking out, and it all results to this. What a waste of yogurt..._

| _DerekVenturi: Too bad I don't care._

_| LifeWithCasey: Like I'm supposed to believe you don't care at all? That's quite difficult considering you stormed out of the house for 'no reason.' _

_| DerekVenturi: I don't care about you and your stupid date. All I care about is my room and the flooding you'll cause when you cry an ocean after you get dumped._

_| LifeWithCasey: You can keep denying it all you want, but the more you fight, the more it seems like you're just trying to cover up something. _

_| DerekVenturi: What, you think I was trying to sabotage your date? Hah, get real._

_| LifeWithCasey: I'm not sure what I was worrying about today. Oh, I know. Someone who wasn't worth worrying about. Glad you're home safe, jerk. _

_| DerekVenturi: Did I ask you to worry about me? Why are you trying to make this a big deal? Mind your own business and I'll mind my own._

_| LifeWithCasey: Is it so wrong to worry when someone who rarely ever gives up throws in the towel just like that and then storms out of the house? _

He didn't reply anymore. Tears started flowing out of Casey's eyes from the lack of concern Derek was showing. Why was he acting like this? Weren't they supposed to be getting along already, after years of living in the same house? Or at least have some sort of civility between them; anything that would put a plug into this quarreling issue. Something, something that would make this life with him a little more bearable. And to think that she had actually convinced herself that Derek wasn't such a bad guy and that somehow he did care for her in.. a brotherly way.

_| LifeWithCasey: Going to bed and trying not to think about feelings. Because I actually have them. And they really got abused today. _

A few minutes had passed since that last tweet from Casey showed up on the timeline. He saw it, Derek saw that tweet. But he couldn't bring himself to answer. What was he going to say? He didn't have any proper explanation to what he did earlier that day. What was the big deal anyway? Wasn't it just a normal Derek-Casey day - filled with snaps and retorts? What else was there to say? He focused his eyes steadily on the ceiling while lying on his bed. This was supposed to be a very comfortable thing to do, but no matter how much he tried to ignore everything, the more it got ingrained in his mind. It was just like the night before, only twice the heaviness in his lungs. He could also hear Casey's soft sobbing through the vent that was installed in between their rooms. There was a part of him that wanted to do something about it. But unlike last night, he couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. Finally, gravitational force.

_| DerekVenturi: I'm sorry._

He finally tweeted. Too late, she had already signed out.

* * *

**A/N: **Ahh, duh-rama. LOL. Next one would be lighter, I hope! R&R.


	4. Chapter 4: A Clueless Fish, Perhaps?

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait! I had to let the school term finish and the Christmas season pass by before I finish writing this chapter. Hope everyone had an amazing Christmas holiday! Again, thanks for the reviews! You guys are awesome. Thank you and I appreciate every single one of them!

Yet again, the tweets have been tweeked to match the story. Some of the tweets have also been converted into dialogues, because it would be weird to have them tweeting while they're only a few inches away from each other. Haha.

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the trademarks. Tweets are from LifeWithCasey (some are mine) and DerekVenturi (mine, but inspired by him and LifeWithCasey).

**Chapter 4: A Clueless Fish, Perhaps?**

Casey locked herself in her room the entire Thursday morning, taking breaks only when she needed to go to the bathroom or if she wanted to get some light snack downstairs. It's already afternoon and the other siblings had gone to their own activities for the day. Lizzie went to her Tae Kwon Do class, Edwin hung out at Teddy's, and Marti was at her summer camp – which she often complained about, it being not as enjoyable as when Casey and Derek (mostly Derek) were there to inject some fun into an otherwise boring curriculum. The parents were at work and would be picking up the kids later when they get off. This left her and Derek home alone. Yeah, _awkward_. Thank goodness for dividers called walls and doors, at least they didn't have to suffer in each other's presence. Or so she thought, since every slight sound or movement coming from outside the four walls of her room made her squirm a little. But she wasn't planning on seeing him any time soon because she was busy burying her face in her copy of Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice", which she had already read for who knows how many times.

"'I could easily forgive _his _pride, if he had not mortified _mine_,'" she mentioned that part under her breath as she went through Chapter 5 of the book. "Oh, how your words define my soul, Jane Austen."

She let out a sigh as she buried her head in her pillow, letting every word of that line penned by one of her favorite authors simmer in her mind. She did see that last tweet from Derek. _'I'm sorry.' _Those words lingered in her thoughts for a while as she tried to judge whether the apology was sincere or not. First of all, this is Derek; second of all, this was an apology directed at her. From her usual very unfortunate experiences, he only 'means' his apologies to her whenever the family puts him through an intense, guilt-inducing intervention. Other than that, _hah_. Maybe when pigs fly. _Maybe when he flies. _She huffed and rolled her eyes while convincing herself that it was just one of his quick and easy escape routes so he wouldn't have to deal with the drama the next day.

Little did she know that the subject of her current train of thoughts wasn't even inside the house at that moment. He was currently at the nearest movie rental store, browsing a shelf of DVDs in the Horror/Suspense section.

_Not what you came here for, D. _Derek reminded himself as he tried to get the temptation of grabbing every film with either a gory picture cover or a freaky-sounding name out of his mind. He had been there for 30 minutes already, yet he couldn't bring himself to walk over to the shelves right across from where he currently was.

He didn't tell Casey that he was going out. Like she would care anyway. She didn't even respond to his last tweet. That should be a sign that she was still mad at his... what was it that she was mad about again? His misbehavior? His rudeness? His chronic Casey-related apathy? It wasn't his intention to make her cry; that wasn't part of the plan. Shouting is good, but not tears – he doesn't do tears. And the last person he would want to see crying is Casey. Because as much as he liked making fun of her, causing her tears is a different thing. A different _bad_ thing. Why?_ Because._

Breathing out heavily, he braved the section he had been avoiding for a long time.

* * *

Derek came back home from the rental store after an hour and a half of roaming around the place, jumping from one section to the other. He had to call Sam for help in finding the cheesiest, corniest, sappiest romantic comedy ever to be made; but he figured he wasn't the best person to get _romcom _advice from. His best recommendation was to call Casey, and he wasn't going to do that even if the Prime Minister asked him to. Good thing the middle-aged lady at the store was kind enough to help him make selections. Maybe it was partly because he had been checking the Romance section for the longest time and he was being a bit of an eye-sore already. In the end, he settled for the movie 'Clueless'. If having three uber preppy chicks on the cover doesn't scream "chick flick", then nothing else would. He placed the DVD on the coffee table and went straight to the kitchen.

He made strawberry smoothie. Or _tried_ to make. He thought he should at least be able to whip up something decent since he had been watching Casey make the concoction every once in a while. Taking out the popcorn from the microwave, he poured the contents on a bowl and set it on a tray along with the glass of smoothie. He carried it to the living room and laid it on top of the coffee table where he had also placed the DVD a while ago.

After making one last check at his arrangement, he nodded in approval, let out a breathy "okay", and proceeded upstairs. Seconds later, he was in front of Casey's door. He was staring at the Swan Lake poster and the pair of ballet shoes that were hanging there, but his mind was obviously in another dimension. Particularly in between 'Go knock on the door' and 'Run as fast as you can'. Blinking his eyes to snap him back to consciousness, he lifted his hand and prepared to knock. A little bit hesitant at first, he continued with the task anyway. He waited for a few minutes but was greeted by nothing – or no one. He knocked on her door again, this time a little louder. Meanwhile, his brain was processing a hundred thoughts per second, or so. _Am I really doing this? What exactly am I doing? I can't believe I'm doing this. I should just leave and -_

The door suddenly opened to reveal an irritated Casey, eyebrows raised, left hand resting on her waist.

"What do you want, Derek?" She impatiently asked the person in front of her who seemed to just lost his ability to speak.

_Speak, you idiot! Be a man and tell her. Suck it up! Just one single sentence and you're off the hook. One single breathing. One -_

"Well?" Casey added, tapping her foot as she waited for him to say even one syllable.

_Tell her. Tell her, tell her, tell her, tell her! _"AH!" Derek grunted loudly in frustration and retreated to his room, leaving a confused Casey who just followed his track with her eyes.

"What.." She scrunched her eyebrows as she closed the door slowly, still perplexed at his weird actions. She could've sworn she had already seen him like this before. Well, at least she wasn't the only one going crazy in this house.

A few minutes later, she heard another knock on her door. This time, she got out of bed quickly to face this annoying stepbrother of hers so she could tell him off and continue on with her life – i.e. read her Austen novel.

"What? Look, if you're not even going to say anyth-"

She stopped mid-sentence when Derek held out a remote in front of her face. Confused as to what he was trying to do, she just stared at the remote and asked, "What?"

"Just take it already, will you?"

"What am I going to do with this?"

"Go downstairs, you'll see."

Before she could even react to his words, he had already withdrawn back to his room.

Staring at the remote control she was now holding, Casey couldn't figure out whether to just ignore what Derek said or actually go downstairs to check out whatever it was that he was talking about. After reasoning out with herself, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Not too much benefit though, she was still in a flight-or-fight mode just in case this was another one of his annoying pranks. She took her laptop then slowly and carefully made her way downstairs.

No sign of anything alarming, so far. Not until she had completely gotten off the stairs and confirmed what she had seen midway down – a popcorn bowl, a glass of strawberry smoothie, and "Clueless?" She wondered as she picked up the DVD from the table.

"This is weird," she said as she tried to decode this Derek puzzle. There were so many things in her head at that moment and the fact that some of the ideas were conflicting didn't help the cause. She didn't rule out the thought that this might be his latest trick and that she was the target of his shenanigan. Again. And since it was the only one that made sense, she went along with it.

_One can never be too sure._ She made a quick stop to the kitchen to get a fork. When she came back, she slowly dipped the utensil in the popcorn bowl and carefully poked the kernels to check if something would jump out and scare her. Nothing. She even smelled it to see if Derek added some weird tasting seasoning with a pungent odor to it. Negative, it was just a harmless bunch of buttered corn puffs. Continuing with her food sleuthing, she hesitantly lifted the glass of smoothie and shook it a bit. She examined the contents too by turning the glass around and eyeing the color.

"It's not poisoned." Derek said from behind, which made her jump a little. "Although, it might not taste as good as you make it."

He disappeared again upstairs after getting his CD and before Casey could even mention his name.

* * *

_| LifeWithCasey: Um... is everything okay?_

| _DerekVenturi: Should there be something wrong?_

No, nothing was wrong. But that's what's wrong about it, there was nothing wrong at all. The food, the movie, Derek doing something nice for her even without outside intervention. No one to force him to make up for his wrongdoings. _Wait, so this is about yesterday, right?_

_| LifeWithCasey: I... am going to go along with this and pretend like it's normal. Because it's nice. Thank you._

He didn't reply to her tweet, but she figured he saw it anyway. Right now, all she cared about was being immersed in the story of this classic movie and getting lost in anticipation of the sweetness of Cher and Josh's staircase kiss. A few minutes into the film, she remembered the fact that this was based on an Austen novel entitled 'Emma'. This made her appreciate his selection even more.

_| LifeWithCasey: Clueless is based on a Jane Austen book. How perfect is that? This is kind of.. sweet._

_| DerekVenturi: Don't get your hopes up, I only borrowed that movie because I get discounts for renting two. It's called an act of convenience._

_| LifeWithCasey: And you made me smoothie and popcorn just because it was convenient for you, too? Call it what you may, Venturi... but I know somewhere, deep down you felt bad and wanted to do something about it._

| _DerekVenturi: Yeah, well.. I checked the expiry date and it expires tomorrow.  
_

Casey rolled her eyes and shook her head from the absurdity of his responses. He wouldn't admit it even if his life depended on it. But since it was a huge leap from the usual forced apology, she would take it anyway.

_| LifeWithCasey: Well, it is kind of lonely down here. Do you.. want to watch the movie with me? Besides, who wants to spend Thursday afternoons alone._

_| DerekVenturi: _Romcom_.. with you? No, thanks. And I would. Actually, I'd rather._

_| LifeWithCasey: Oh, come on. It won't kill you. And I know how much you're missing the TV right now. _

_| DerekVenturi: There is no way on earth I'm going to watch that entire movie with you. No way. So, if you'll excuse yourself out of my timeline, that would be much appreciated.  
_

_| LifeWithCasey: Then.. watch ¾ of the film?_

_| DerekVenturi: ¼._

_| LifeWithCasey: Half?_

_| DerekVenturi: You're not going to drop this, are you?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Well, since you're being nice to me, I just want to be nice back._

_| DerekVenturi: By torturing me? Oh, you're a saint.  
_

_| LifeWithCasey: I'm not torturing you! I'm merely suggesting an alternative to your otherwise solitary afternoon. I'll share my popcorn?_

She didn't exactly know why she was trying to persuade him to watch the movie with her anyway. It wasn't like he would consent to her proposal. Like what she said, she was just returning the favor. Maybe then they would be even, and his good deed wouldn't be much of a big deal anymore. But, she was expecting him to turn it down again. One last time and she'd drop the subject. He would never agree to this, he just made that clear. Again, maybe when pigs fly.

| _DerekVenturi: Fine. Just this once! But if I die after watching this chick flick, stay away from my funeral._

Apparently, pigs do fly.

_| LifeWithCasey: A little dramatic, aren't we? It's not going to kill you, I promise. But if it does, I'll make sure to bury you __properly __ in the backyard._

_

* * *

_

"Boxers?" Casey uttered in disbelief as she looked at the person who had just plopped himself down on the recliner beside her, clad not in his usual pajamas, but in boxers.

"What? If I die after watching this, at least I'd die wearing a nice pair of boxers."

"Ew, and you said my 'Babe Raider' self-exposure was nauseating."

"I never said that. I said, 'while I'm eating'. But you're right, it was nauseating."

Shaking her head, Casey was about to make another comment when Derek reached out to the bowl on her lap, took a handful of popcorn and stuffed it in his mouth, distracting her from saying what she wanted to say.

"Uh, you're welcome?"

_One-quarter into the movie.._

"Look at that, she's so yellow. I mean, she's hot and all, but yellow, plaid, and knee-high socks? It's the attack of the bright-colored preppy E.T. from Planet Frufru. How can you watch something like this and not get blinded?" He was munching on some popcorn while complaining loudly, much to Casey's chagrin.

_Halfway into the movie.._

"I was right, this is worse than The Ring. I bet whoever watches this will die in 24 hours. Except you, because you're a zombie that gets powers from watching _romcoms_." Derek shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth.

_Three-quarters into the movie.._

"Is it done already? Why is this taking so long? I want to watch some sports."

"Will you keep quiet? The complaining is getting obnoxious. And you say I'm bad during movies. Yeesh."

Derek mocked her words by repeating it while making faces, which Casey answered with an eye-roll.

Casey tried to ignore his awfully loud popcorn chewing by glueing her eyes on the TV and hugging the pillow on her lap tightly as she anticipated the scene that she had been wanting to see all along. She's not letting her _troll-of-a-movie-mate_ take the excitement out of the most romantic part of the film.

"Eee!"

"Oh, no. No, no!"

"Okay, I promise I'll refrain from squealing too much but EEE! Here comes the best part!"

Derek grabbed the throw pillow from Casey's arms and put it in his face so he won't see it then covered one of his ears with his free hand.

"Der-ek," Casey grabbed it back, "get your own pillow!"

"Ugh," Derek complained. "Why did I even watch this movie? It's worse than getting tied up in a chair and eating broccoli. Torture at its finest."

"Shh, you're missing everything!"

As if trying to make it completely obvious that he wasn't interested in the least, he snorted and adjusted his chair to the reclining position as he waited for the movie to finish. After a few seconds, he brought it back to the sitting position as one tiny information dawned on him.

"Aren't they step siblings?"

Casey was so intently focused on the movie that she didn't hear what he said or even notice they both dug into the popcorn bowl at the same time. Shocked at the feeling of something else other than popcorn touching their skin, both of them quickly jumped like they had been electrocuted when their fingers came in contact. It's like tapping and being grounded by a live wire, but no one was messing with static electricity beforehand, not even Derek. Maybe it was the coldness of the skin, or the warmth. But whatever made this 'spark' happen, it caused the bowl to topple over and the rest of the popcorn to land on the floor.

"I'll clean it up," Casey stood up and left quickly to get the broom and dustpan. Derek was left staring at the TV, watching the last few minutes of the movie.

He kept quiet the entire time Casey wasn't there. If he were only paying attention then he would've laughed along with the guys who were making fun of the girls at the wedding. He didn't even make a snarky comment when "Tenderness" played in the background as the crowd of ladies fought for the bouquet that got tossed. His eyes were fixed on the TV, but his mind was still wondering if it was even possible for that type of pairing to be real. But the more he thought about it, the more he got uncomfortable with the idea. Not that he was being grossed out, no. But that he could be in a situation similar to the on-screen pair. Oddly though, there was something in him that was saying, _it's not too bad_.

"Haven't you ever just wanted a love like that?" Casey spoke from behind, carrying the things she needed to clean the mess up. "It's so perfect..."

"What?" He answered, shifting in his chair, obviously startled by her voice and by the question itself.

"Like that," she kept her focus on the TV while she swept the kernel remnants off the carpet as Cher and Josh shared their last kiss before the credits rolled.

"Step sibling love?" Derek wondered. "No, thanks."

Casey disappeared again into the kitchen. She did hear those last words. And even though she knew it was only natural for Derek to mention such ridiculousness, she couldn't help but feel... hurt. _Hurt? _Kind of. Hurt that he didn't seem to want to engage in a proper commitment, a long term one. The _happily ever after_ sort of thing, where the prince pledges his undying love for the fair maiden and takes her up to his castle to make her his queen and live with her forever. Of course, she was concerned. If his goal in life is to chase after ever girl, two weeks at a time, he wouldn't be happy, and she wanted her stepbrother to be happy. Why? _Because._ So, she was hurt. Or was it because he said he'd never want to be in love with a step sibling?

"Not a step sibling love, of course! I mean... just... not a one night stand... sort of thing," Casey said when she came back to the room after putting the cleaning stuff away. "And they're _ex_ step siblings for the record... _ex_."

"Nah, why do I have to deal with this 'love' biz anyway? There are lots of fish in the sea. Why settle for one?"

"Because somewhere out there is a perfect fish, Derek." Casey, slightly annoyed, assumed her old position on the couch as she tried to explain in an almost animated way. "I mean, look how happy they are! It is possible to have a happy ending like Cher and Josh. _Romcoms_ are not just fiction, there's still a hint of reality to it. You can't run away from true love, it'll find you when you least expect it."

"Oh, yeah, totally. Like Cinderella and the Frog Prince?"

Rolling her eyes, Casey reached out for the remote and turned off the DVD player and the TV.

"What happened to your fish then?" Derek suddenly asked.

Casey froze for a bit. She wasn't expecting that question from him at all, judging from the sound of his previous sarcastic remark. She turned her head to face him, but much to her surprise, their faces were just inches away from each other since Derek leaned forward and rested his elbow on the couch arm prior to Casey leaning back on her spot after switching the devices off. They immediately withdrew from the position, Casey doing most of the retreating since she had more room for movement. It was like just like earlier, only their skins never touched. It's as if this 'spark' was getting stronger.

"Well, he just hasn't... caught the bait yet, I guess. Plus I'm very... particular about my fish."

"So, what are you looking for in a fish?" Derek questioned, aware that the question was weird, and him asking about it was weirder. "A perfect 'Fish Charming' who would sweep you off your feet and carry you to his castle in Atlantis? Bad news, he doesn't exist."

"If half the male population is composed of trolls like you, then I'm definitely giving up on chivalry." Casey couldn't help but snap back. "And I don't need someone perfect. Just someone perfect for _me._"

She proceeded to stand as she prepared to head back to her room. "Well, I'll go upstairs and let you watch what you want to watch. Because God knows it wasn't that anyway..." She held the remote in front of his face like he did to her earlier. Derek took it right away. "And thanks for the popcorn and the smoothie."

"Hey, fisherwoman, you forgot your laptop." Derek turned his head to speak to Casey who walked halfway up the staircase already. "On a second thought, leave it. I'll use it. Maybe I can find stuff that I can use to embarrass you."

"Um... I have nothing to hide there! Go ahead and check. It's Derek-proof. Later, _shark_."

_Really._ He thought to himself as he began to use her laptop to log into Twitter and browse the net. There were so many things that happened today, things that were not worth divulging. An afternoon of watching 'Clueless' with your stepsister wasn't exactly a blog-worthy occasion. What was even more bizarre was that he just had a conversation with Casey about fishes. The funnier thing about it was that he was actually... interested. _Interested?_ He shook his head as he began his 'snoop quest' through her files, some of which were supposed to be private but she forgot to hide them. Scanning through the file names in the folder 'Poems', one particular title caught his attention.

_'What I Really Wanted to Say' by Casey McDonald._

"Oh, this will be fun to read."

_

* * *

_**A/N: **Ooh, could this be revelation time? We'll see. :)

So, yeah. Took a while to finish it, but I hope it turned out okay. Derek and Casey are still in the denial stage. Eek. They need a little shaking to realize they're in love. LOL. R&R! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5: I'm Waging A Bet

**A/N: **Hello everyone! Again, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for the reviews! You guys are awesome! Special shoutout to **Dark-Supernatural-Angel** who had been reviewing the chapters whenever I update. Thanks so much. And to everybody else, hope you're enjoying the story so far.

This chapter that I was writing was beginning to be too long for my taste (I'm still in the middle of finishing it, haha) so I decided to cut it into two. So, this is the first part. I'll add more A/N at the bottom so it wouldn't get too annoying for you guys. ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own LWD or any of the trademarks. Most of the tweets here are made by me, with inspirations coming from LifeWithCasey and DerekVenturi on Twitter.

* * *

**Chapter 5: I'm Waging a Bet  
**

| _DerekVenturi: Hey C, look what I found on your computer. It's one of your lame poems. It looks very interesting. ;)_

Casey felt like she was about to get eaten alive by her bed any second as her wide-shot eyes fixated on her phone, it being gripped by rock solid hands on a frozen body. Her heart was beating a hundred times per minute, or so it seemed since she could've sworn it was loud enough to be heard from outside her room. _What poem? _Her mind was racing as fast as her heartbeat. She couldn't remember half of the literary works she had written and saved on her laptop. There were too many to even keep in mind. But she knew she would, somehow, if her racetrack of a brain wasn't the host of the freaking mental NASCAR competition, with thoughts going 110 km/h! One thing is for sure, she wouldn't feel like she was stuck in the tundra for 24 hours without proper snow gear if there wasn't anything wrong with this scenario. Her intuition was acting up, telling her something was about to get ugly if she didn't do anything.

_No, there can't be. It's okay, it's just a poem. _Somehow beginning to be successful in reasoning out with herself, she closed her eyes, calmed her nerves, and began a mental inventory of her poem list.

_| LifeWithCasey: OH MY GOD. DEREK!_

_| DerekVenturi: "What I Really Wanted to Say" by Casey McDonald. Should I read it? Yeah, I think I should. Now, let's see.._

_Oh, no. _Casey was hyperventilating now. _No. _She was right, it was the one that caught his attention. _No. No. _She couldn't bear the fact that Derek might be reading the entire poem right now and her life would shatter into pieces. She'd be the laughing stock of the town. She'd have to run away to another place, change her name, consider his suggestion to get face transplant.. or plastic surgery.. or botox. Where would she go? How would she live? Where would she get the money for her everyday expenses? Maybe she could escape to Toronto and be the 'resident bum', roaming around the streets for food and shelter, forever wasting her life while regretting the day she let her hacker of a stepbrother use her laptop. _NO! I am too young, I have a dream, and I have to go to university! _

"Der-ek!" She shouted from the top of the stairs, chest still heaving from extreme panicking.

"Back so soon?" The cause of all this Casey-generated screaming turned his head to face the epicenter of the yelling, smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.

"Hand it over!"

"What? I thought it was 'Derek-proof'?" Derek teased as he moved from the comfort of his recliner to the other chair in front of him. If Casey's going to have a panic attack, this would give him a better view. He wouldn't miss this show for the world. "'What I Really Wanted to Say' by Casey McDonald."

"Derek, please.." _Oh my gosh... I think I'm going to be sick... _She gripped the handle of the stairs as she heard the title of her poem in Derek's low voice, something that she had never ever imagined in her life that would happen. She felt her energy being drained and her lower extremities disintegrating (not really, but..), causing her legs to wobble as she trailed down the stairwell.

"I've been thinking for quite a while.. thoughts of you seem to bother my mind lately," Derek continued reading in what seemed to be a weird cross between British and Italian accents, while waving his right hand in the air and trying to be artistic.

"Please stop and just give it back," She clutched her chest as she felt a sudden rush of pain, possibly from beating too fast, as she rushed to where he was sitting. She couldn't believe he was reading it. And insulting it, but that should be a given, considering the type of species he belonged to.

When Casey was only a short distance away from Derek, he stood up and extended his arms to hand her the laptop. But when she reached out to get it, he dodged her hands and darted to the left where he had more square feet to run to the dining area. "HA!"

"DER-EK!" She shrieked as she lost her balance and fell face down on the chair from putting too much momentum on her movements. All to Derek's entertainment and amusement. He was clutching one side of his ribs while he held the laptop with one hand as he burst into deafening laughter.

"Urrgh!" Casey groaned in the pillow where her face landed, then quickly hoisted herself up and turned only to see a big area devoid of any annoying cad. "Derek?" No answer. "Der-ek!"

"Ey, Klutzilla. Over here!" A head popped out from behind the kitchen island. She looked at the direction of the voice and saw the mischievous grinning face of the Cheshire Derek-Cat, causing her blood pressure to increase and her own brain to get clouded.

Their game of tag, with Casey being the 'it' the entire time, lasted for almost three minutes before they ended up on both sides of the dining table – Casey, holding onto the edges of the chair while trying to catch her breath, and Derek, still holding her laptop in his arms and not wiping that devilish grin from his face. Their stares pierced each other like nails being driven down solid wood. Casey tried to hold the stare, gulping a little, as she rewind again and again in her brain that this person across from her is enemy and he was holding a very valuable possession. Therefore, exterminate at all cost. Feeling the adrenaline rush brought about by an aura of intense competition and tension, Derek let his tongue roll on the side of his inner cheek and mockingly sneered at his rival.

_Oh my f.._ Casey just lost her lungs. She lost them and now she couldn't breathe. She tried to keep her cool and not let Derek know she was getting affected by this gesture. She couldn't, she couldn't, she's losing it. Derek raised his eyebrow and pouted his lips a little as if trying to taunt her even more_. Queen's, Casey, Queen's! _She slammed her hand on the table, startling Derek and causing him to fall backwards and hit the book shelves behind him.

"Ow!" he rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, wincing in pain.

"You get your freaking large stupid butt of a head here this instant and give me my flipping computer back! I will not let myself be Toronto's 'resident bum', living in the streets and wasting my life while I could actually finish my degree at Queen's and live my years riding a limo to work!"

"What?"

"I said..!" Getting irritated at this, Casey scanned the room from left to right and then finally behind her and saw his phone on the coffee table. Derek, still recovering from his headache, followed her line of vision with his own eyes. He couldn't exactly tell from where he was standing what had caught her attention, but if she would make a run for it, he'd follow her lead.

And she did. In a New York minute, she went for his precious smartphone, dashed up the stairs and dangled it while standing at the highest possible step before her head touched the ceiling.

"WAH! No, no, no, no!" Derek yelped in terror when he saw his phone hanging perilously between Casey's thumb and index finger.

"Give it!"

"Here, here! Take it!" He scurried to the bottom of the stairs and placed the laptop on the platform step, but still positioned his hand on top of it, just in case she would try to trick him and not return his phone back.

Casey slowly went down the stairs until she was on the platform then sat on bended knees and laid the phone beside the laptop, hand still slightly touching it, ready to grab just in case he wouldn't comply to the unspoken switching agreement. Watching each other's moves, they quickly lifted their hands away from the other devices and grabbed their personal belongings at the same time. Relieved to get his phone back, Derek kissed and caressed it. "Oh, my poor baby.. did the big, bad Casey hurt you?" To which she answered with a snort.

"Did you read the rest of it?" Casey brought the subject back, still worried about the issue.

"Why? It's just a lame poem." Derek huffed and rolled his eyes as he made his way back to his recliner.

"Der-ek, did you or did you not read the rest of the poem?"

"I didn't! I swear!" He defended himself as he adjusted his chair to the reclining position. Staring at the ceiling, he asked the question out of curiosity. "Who's that poem about anyway?"

"You have no clue, do you?" Casey put the question out there as a conversation ender, not expecting an answer back, as she hurried up the stairs.

"That's about Truman. I'm pretty sure."

She answered this with the sound of her door shutting.

* * *

_| LifeWithCasey: Safe and sound in my room... that was traumatizing to say the least. And I don't think you'll ever understand. So put it out of your mind. _

_| LifeWithCasey: And just FYI, I have not, nor will I ever write a poem about Truman. Unless it's angry or hate-filled. Nothing nice... or recent. _

Casey reluctantly recalled the reason why she and Truman broke up, this time for good. Of course, she had to give him a second 'last chance'. Were his actions back at the party justifiable? No. Did it seem fair that he kept himself distant from her and went on kissing her cousin because he was too afraid of the brewing closeness between them? No. Was it a good excuse that he was acting up because he was dealing with his parents' divorce? _Psh, _big whoop, she was dealing with the same thing. But what could she do? From the looks of the _surprising_ romance between her best friend and her stepbrother, she would seem like the third wheel. And she didn't want to look like the extra person in the 'three's a crowd' expression. She didn't want to be someone who would be asked to tag along just because she looked pitiful in all her single status. Not that she would tag along, no. Not with Derek around. _Derek_, the root of all her problems. _Derek_, the annoying itch she couldn't get rid of. She was hurt. Maybe because her best friend of high school years would be taken away from her, and she was all that she got. Aside from Lizzie. And that it would be awkward to have Emily visiting the house every week, only to hang out with Derek instead of her. What could she do? She had to hang on to the only solution sticking out at that time. She needed Truman around - she needed Truman to call her everyday so that Derek wouldn't hog the phone, she needed Truman to visit her at home so that Derek would be forced to stay in his room all day, she needed Truman to take her out on dates so that she would have to endure less of Derek's stupid pranks, and she needed Truman to prove Derek that she was fit to live dangerously and rebelliously. She needed Truman to keep Derek in place!

Oh yeah, breakup. Well, what else was new? He was downright scum. Nothing would change about that. There she was, giving him the chance of his lifetime, but few days after graduation, he was seen getting cozy with some brunette gal at an after-grad house party which she had chosen not to attend, thinking, gee, Casey wasn't there to cry her pretty eyelashes off on her stepbrother Derek, who happened to be at the same party. A little too bad for the scumbag, Derek happened to function automatically even without Casey's tears, and needless to say, he got what he deserved - no Casey and no pretty face to flaunt around town. He just had too much _player rep _baggage in his jeans for her to carry. Once was enough, twice was too much. So, he's permanently off the list.

And Derek.. it wasn't even him who told Casey everything that happened. She just heard about it. She tried to bring that up once, but the issue seemed to be tabooed by him. So, there were no further discussions.

| _DerekVenturi: Then spill it. Who's this person you wrote about?_

_| LifeWithCasey: That poem and the subject of my thoughts are highly personal. The last person I would want to tell the deepest secrets of my heart to is you, so don't dream about it._

_| DerekVenturi: Oh, c'mon. Do you really want to hide things from me? After what I did for you?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Typical. Let's milk the cow after feeding it grass, shall we? I knew there's a catch to this nice phase of yours, Farmer Brown. Why do you wanna know? _

_| DerekVenturi: Psh. Why don't you wanna tell?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Stop inquiring about the poem. End of discussion._

Derek squinted his eyes before making a full roll. What was this extra fuss about? How hard was it to spill out a name? He didn't need to do a roll call, it wasn't like there was a lot of probable candidates to inspire _Grubby's_ poetic creations. He could blurt out three full names and her dirty little secret would be revealed faster than she could say 'what she really wanted to say'.

A mischievous smile crept across his face. _Ah, of course. _If her secret was going see the light of day, he needed to take advantage of this and milk the cow down to the last drop.

| _DerekVenturi: Why don't we have a bet?_

_| LifeWithCasey: A bet?_

_| DerekVenturi: Yeah, since Farmer Klutz is trying hard not to spill the beans, I'm just gonna say outright who that poem is about. If I'm right, I get to ask you three questions and you have to answer them truthfully. If I'm not, you.. get to do the same to me._

_| LifeWithCasey: No way! I'm not going to risk this just because you wanted to do your silly games._

_| DerekVenturi: What? Scared? Tomorrow evening. Here on Twitter, we'll deal with this mystery person of yours._

_| LifeWithCasey: I don't know.._

_| DerekVenturi: Chicken. Bawk, bawk. Old McKlutzy had a farm, e-i-e-i-o, and on her farm she had a big red scaredy chicken. E-i-e-i-o._

_| LifeWithCasey: Shut up, Derek. I'm not chicken! And your version is beyond terrible. Don't ruin the song for the children._

_| DerekVenturi: Oh, yeah? Tell that to someone who doesn't want to accept a challenge. What now?_

_| LifeWithCasey: NO WAY._

Derek did expect things to go this way, but he realized that it did seem that the poem was more valuable for her than he thought. Why would she protect this certain piece of work so much? So what if the name of the person she wrote this for was brought out into the open? It wouldn't be the end of the world, and it wasn't like she hadn't bored him to death with her other literary pieces. Why hide now? What was it about this one that was so confidential? _Maybe this is about that Jacob Black of a werewolf freak. She's so 'Team Jacob'. What a fangirl_. He snickered at the thought of Casey obsessing over a fictional character while pounding his thumb on the screen of his phone. If he couldn't convince her alone to accept his proposition, then it's time to ask for backup._  
_

_| DerekVenturi: RT if you like (at)LifeWithCasey to have a bet with me. Ladies who'd RT will get a sexy DM from yours truly. ;)_

Due to his known charming reputation on Twitter, he instantly received tons of support from girls who were following him, some thinking that this Casey girl was someone he was currently wooing (since not everybody knew they were step siblings and not everyone who followed Derek followed Casey too) and they approved of it. And of course, who would pass up a sexy DM from the King of Twitter Babes, right? Well, Casey reacted to the 'wooing' issue and clarified things. Derek didn't. Whatever it would take to make Casey uncomfortable enough and annoyed enough to just choose to end the flood of replies she was receiving from 'his ladies' by agreeing to the bet he was waging, he'd go with it._  
_

_| LifeWithCasey: I don't even know anymore! Fine, fine, okay?_

_| DerekVenturi: See, I knew you'd come to your senses.  
_

_| LifeWithCasey: Whatever. But only on one condition! You will never hack into my computer to see the rest of the poem. If I see you near my laptop even if you're not doing anything, bet's automatically off._

_| DerekVenturi: Fine._

_| LifeWithCasey: Fine._

_

* * *

_

Earlier the next day, Derek hung out at Sam's place for some band jamming/video gaming session with his two closest friends. Ralph hadn't arrived yet, so he was busy making himself comfortable on the couch in the living room while waiting for Sam to get some snacks. He was all sprawled out, with one foot on the coffee table, while strumming the electric guitar that wasn't currently connected to an amplifier.

"So, what's keeping you busy, man?" Sam entered the living room carrying two cans of Coke and two bags of chips, one of which he threw at his pal who was doing a good job making himself feel at-home.

"Oh, I have this bet with Casey," Derek replied, catching the bag and opening it by ripping the bottom part with his teeth. He caught most of the chips that came out of the bag with his mouth, but some fell down on the floor.

"Dude, my mom's gonna kill you if you make a mess on the carpet," Sam reminded his friend, who merely replied with louder chewing, eye rolling, and his trademark smirking. Shaking his head, he flung himself on the chair adjacent to the couch Derek was fully occupying. "Bet with Casey?"

"Yeah, about this poem she's keeping on her laptop," Derek answered, in an almost bored tone.

"You're having bets about poems now, huh. What's the haps?" Sam said, opening his own bag of chips in the process - _properly_.

"Well.. I need to guess who the poem is about. If I guess it right, I get to ask her three questions and she has to answer them truthfully."

"Interesting," Sam nodded. "And if you don't?"

"She.. gets to do the same?"

"Oh, that's bad," Sam shook his head as he heard what he was putting at stake, which only earned a "Psh!" from Derek. "Or not? You can wiggle your way out of it."

"You know it," Derek replied smugly, opening his mouth for another round of falling chips.

"So, do you have an idea already?"

"Still trying to figure it out," Derek replied while shifting to a different position and extending both his legs on the coffee table, resting the guitar neck on his stomach. "It's called 'What I Really Wanted to Say'. And it's recent. Who could she be talking about?"

"Maybe it's Truman?" Sam shrugged, remembering that he was her most recent ex-boyfriend, thanks to Derek and his fist. He was at the party, he knew.

"No, she said it wasn't him," Derek responded right away. "I'm guessing it's Jesse. That summer fling-wing she had back at the lodge. Got moves, but no style. No swag, too flimsy."

"Wow, opinionated much, D?" Sam let out a chuckle, teasing Derek in a way that made him purse his lips and squint his eyes. The latter guy didn't want to go there. Now or _ever._

"Whatever. Just help me out," Derek dismissed his best friend's jesting and grabbed one of the Coke cans Sam placed on the coffee table earlier. "So, it's either him or I don't know.. her dad?" He pulled the ring to open the can and chugged a portion of the contents.

"Maybe it's about you."

Derek, who was still busy downing his soda, choked on his drink, spilling pop on his shirt and the guitar which now got moved to his lap when he lurched forward in surprise.

"Ah, dude!" Sam hurried to move the guitar away from him then pulled a few tissue flaps from the box sitting on top of the end table.

"Well, I'm alright, thanks for asking," Derek rolled his eyes as he eased himself from coughing, pulling the wet portion of his shirt away from his skin. Sam threw him the tissue box so he could try to dry it up a bit.

"About me?" Derek asked, pertaining to the last comment Sam made about the mystery subject of Casey's poem. "Nah, she's not gonna waste her energy writing poems about me," answering himself, he went on and blotted tissue paper on his damp shirt.

"Any other clues?" Sam inquired, placing his guitar on the stand beside him.

"Well, the first two lines say.." Derek tried to recall the words he read from the poem yesterday, "..damn, I can't remember." He took a few more seconds before responding. "It's something about 'bothering her thoughts lately'."

"You think her dad bothers her thoughts?"

"It's possible!"

"And Jesse?"

"Probably, she was supposed to go to New York with him to try out this dance thing, but she turned it down. Maybe she was reconsidering the option," Derek mentioned, suddenly recalling what he did to Casey's planner a couple of nights ago. Feeling a little smug about his mischief, he snorted and shrugged, and went on to finish the rest of his soda.

"The chances are slim, dude. You'll never win this bet. It involves thinking and clearly you don't have enough clues," Sam said in a matter-of-factly, you're-kinda-screwed type of tone.

"Yeah, thanks for the pep-talk, man. My confidence level skyrocketed through the roof," Derek sarcastically replied.

"Seriously, though. It's Jesse," Sam gestured his right hand while his left hand dug into his bag of chips.

"Jesse, right," Derek nodded in agreement.

"Or you," Sam added with a sly smile.

"Don't push it, Sammy boy. I told you, she's not going to-" Derek pointed his finger at him, obviously starting to get peeved at his best friend's teasing.

"I know, I know. Gee, can't even take a joke," Sam waved his hand in front of him, aware that Derek could lose his cool any minute, although he wouldn't deny he was enjoying his antsiness.

"Or maybe it was about you, huh, Sam?"

"Nah, I don't think so. I've never really talked to her lately. And, come to think of it, D, you're the only person she gets to see everyday who actually bothers her all the time. So.."

"Not listening," Derek lay full-length on the couch, grabbed the pillow on his head and smacked it on his face.

"What's wrong with you, man? So what if the poem's about you?"

"It's not about me."

"Okay, fine. Whatever you say. It's not about you, sure."

Both guys glanced at the direction of the sound when they heard footsteps coming from the hallway. Ralph was finally in the building.

"Yo, what's up, dudes? Let's start rockin'!" Ralph greeted the two, hitting the snare drum he was carrying as a signal to start the jamming session.

* * *

**A/N: **As promised, here's half of my notes. This chapter is a little different than the original Twitter story because I added some things. Although they did have an argument about the poem and they did have a bet. I just chose to make the argument longer and then I added the Sam and Derek conversation.

Anyway, I'm almost done with the other half of this chapter, where they actually talk about the bet, but I'll just put this out there so you can read it.

ENJOY! Please review! Happy New Year to all!


	6. Chapter 6: What I Really Wanted to Say

**A/N:** AHH, lol. This was supposed to be posted earlier but I had a bad case of writer's block. I had a hard time figuring out the last part. But anyway, I hope it turned out to be okay. More notes at the bottom. How was your holiday? :) Thank you so much for the reviews! I've been reading every single one of them and you guys are seriously making me smile, thanks! I'll try to answer some of the questions later.

**Notes:** Even though some of the tweets seem long enough to be cut into parts (140 character limit), I chose to put everything into one tweet so it won't be weird. Unless I wanted to make an emphasis. (_d_) is my sign for Direct Messaging or private DM.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own LWD, Twitter, or any of the other trademarks. Some of the tweets are directly from LifeWithCasey, DerekVenturi's tweets are mine but inspired by LifeWithCasey and him.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 6: What I Really Wanted to Say**

"What's the big deal anyway, Case?"

Lizzie was sitting on her bed with her head resting on the headboard, watching her sister pace back and forth on the side. It's been an hour already since Casey stormed into her room, claiming that she needed someone to talk to about.. _Derek_. 'Derek and their bet' to be exact - her older sister was very adamant in inserting that _important_ fact. So, Derek and their bet and how she didn't want to be a homeless person, wandering the streets of Toronto on a cold winter night. She wasn't entirely sure how that tied up to the whole bet situation, but knowing Casey, things could become a little.. well, out of the ordinary. She's poetic, yeah. Not the point though, the point was that she needed to help her sister solve her problems or she'd never get enough alone time.

"Liz! This is a very confidential poem! I don't even know what has gotten into me. I just want this whole stupid bet thing off," Casey exclaimed in frustration, becoming aware that her sister was starting to get less and less interested in her situation.

"Then.. call it off."

"No! Then he'll say I'm chicken. And I'm not chicken!" Casey mentioned with wide eyes, pointing at her sister and putting an emphasis on the last sentence.

"Then.. go with the bet," Lizzie said mechanically. They had been doing this back and forth, and every single time, her sister would produce another alibi as to why she couldn't bail out or why she couldn't continue on.

"I can't! It's too much! This pressure, this.. this.. this.. Derek!" Casey threw her hands in the air and grunted, then tossed herself on the bed, face down. This was definitely something Lizzie would miss - or not miss - seeing when her big sister moves to Kingston.

"Casey, calm down. You're just confused."

Casey turned quickly so that she was now lying on her back, her face still full of worry, "What am I going to do? What if he guesses it right? I am not answering any questions!"

"Well, who's the poem about anyway?" Lizzie finally asked.

Feeling her heart skip a beat from getting caught off-guard, Casey didn't answer right away. She just stared at the ceiling, debating with herself whether she would let her little sister know about this mystery person or not. This was one of those secrets that she could possibly carry to her grave, since she hadn't revealed this to anyone, not even her mother or her best friend.

"No one.."

"Oh, c'mon.. you can tell me. I'm your sister. I won't tell, I promise. And it'll calm your nerves. Just let it out."

She was right. Maybe. Maybe she was right. Casey was beginning to lean towards divulging the name of her secret poem subject. At least it would make her calm down a bit. _Right?_ Right. It would be the best thing to do at this point in time. She needed a confidante, someone who would understand her and not judge her. And she knew her sister would be a good candidate. She was all that she had right now.

"Okay.. okay.. yeah. Yeah.. I can do that."

"Good, so..?"

"So.." Casey assumed a sitting position and faced Lizzie. She breathed deeply and opened her mouth as she thought of the right words. "No!" She quickly threw herself out of her sister's bed and left the room, leaving a confused Lizzie who couldn't do anything but shake her head in disbelief.

* * *

The two eldest step siblings had been really quiet the entire night that they were with the family, especially at the dinner table. Eerily quiet. They didn't even laugh when George made a corny joke about his co-worker. Well, maybe since it was corny. But that could at least earn a diss from the oldest Venturi child. No, he was busy stuffing his face with food to even look up. Or maybe avoiding the eyes of someone in particular, someone who always sat in front of him during chow time. He didn't understand what was wrong with him. He was supposed to be the intimidating one, not the one who gets intimidated. Wasn't he the one who was cocky enough to wage a bet? _Stupid Sam and his stupid big mouth._ No, he wouldn't allow this to affect him.

Hours later, when everybody had already gone to the respective rooms, they both logged into Twitter, ready to get on with the bet - or not.

| _LifeWithCasey: Can we just... think about this for a bit? I don't know if I can do this. Today... or ever. _

Same as yesterday, Casey had been receiving tweets from her and Derek's followers, asking her to either go with the bet or disclose her secrets already. Needless to say, she had been receiving extra pressure from the Twitterverse, because King Derek decided to get his minions to work against her. Or at least, that's how she felt at that time.

_| LifeWithCasey: Try to put this in perspective, people. How would you feel admitting something you've been trying to keep in for a really long time... With all this pressure and all of these people trying to get you to give an answer. And not knowing what people are going to think of you... And having to decide what the right time is or who the right person is to tell, and not wanting to mess up EVERYTHING! _

_| DerekVenturi: Don't mind her. She's a drama queen-ing Space Case. She talks nonsense half the time. _

_| LifeWithCasey: **Shut up, Derek! **RT (at)DerekVenturi: Don't mind her. She's a drama queen-ing Space Case. She talks nonsense half the time. _

Derek chuckled as he focused his eyes on his timeline, most especially on Casey's last few tweets. Couldn't fit her rage into 140 characters, huh? Clearly, she was getting annoyed at the added stress everybody was giving her. This could work to his advantage. Plus, he felt confident knowing that he was sure about his answer. He already knew who this poem was about and Casey would have to deal with the consequences, i.e. answer the questions he was going to ask.

_| DerekVenturi: Yeah, yeah. So, the bet! I already know who this poem is about. ;)_

_| LifeWithCasey: You.. do?_

_| DerekVenturi: Oh yeah, prize is in the bag. ;) You're ready for this?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Well.._

No, she wasn't. She wasn't ready at all and she didn't think she'd ever have enough preparation for this. Casey was on the edge of her seat. She didn't exactly know if she even wanted to hear, or see, the name he would mention. She thought of how long she had kept this, and how unsure she still was. She had no clue how she would handle the situation and how she would go about this when everything around her changes. _This is it. Goodbye to everything I've ever wanted in life._ Her hands shook as she clicked the reply notification.

_| DerekVenturi: It's about Jesse, isn't it?_

Her reaction went from _can't-breathe_ to _what-did-he-say_ to _I-can't-believe-he-said-that_. She was still on the edge of her seat, now literally, and she kinda stayed there for a bit. _What?_ She tried to recall the vacation back at the lodge and how she had met one great dancer in the form of Jesse. But did Derek really think he'd be special enough to even flood her thoughts and make her write an entire poem dedicated to him? Still in a pensive state, there were two things that alerted her - the fact that Derek said the wrong answer (on a bet?) and, as if it was the sign of the apocalypse, he actually lost a bet.

_| LifeWithCasey: Uh, no.  
_

Derek felt like he was about to get hit by a plane that was about to crash in his room, right above his head. Did he seriously say the wrong answer? He was so sure about it a while ago. The 'recent thoughts', the 'bothering' business. That had to be Jesse. Recent fling, New York, professional dancing vs. university studies? Everything was just screaming 'Jesse'! This couldn't be happening. He proceeded to type, or smash the keys, as his heart pounded loudly and fast. Not only because he made a mistake, but because it wasn't about Jesse. So then, who could it be about?

_| DerekVenturi: It's not? Well, that doesn't make sense! Who is it about then?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Uh-uh. I believe it's my turn to ask the questions around here. You just lost the bet._

_'You just lost the bet.' _It was like a slap on Derek's face - Derek, who never loses a bet (except that one time with the driving test bet, but it doesn't exist in his brain - i.e. intentionally forgotten); Derek, who _always_ wins; Derek, who gets whatever he wants. His mind was racing and he was beginning to feel sweaty from all this stress. Did the tables seriously just turn? Biting his lower lip, he looked up and stared at his door as his brain went into overdrive. He wouldn't let this happen. Not if he could still change it.

_| DerekVenturi: Wait! I'm upping the stakes. One more guess. Loser needs to answer three questions and.. cook pancakes tomorrow morning!_

_| LifeWithCasey: Ugh, fine. Do your worst.._

Finally given another chance, but Derek couldn't bring himself to type anything. His mind was clouded with so many things. _It's not Jesse. It's not Truman. This doesn't make any sense_. He wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to blurt out the name of that one person sticking out in his head at that moment. He was stuck in this terrible dilemma and he had to make a choice. If the Merriam-Webster dictionary would ever need a definition for 'lose-lose situation', this predicament would be completely _spot on_. Either way, it wasn't looking good for him at all.

_| DerekVenturi: It's about.. your dad?_

_| LifeWithCasey: NOPE._

"_Eff_ this," Derek stood up from his chair swiftly and launched himself on his bed. Where was that plane when he needed it? _Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like UFOs? I really need to be kidnapped right now. Damn.__  
_

Casey didn't get another reply from Derek. She was beginning to wonder if he had logged out and left her online. However, moments later, she did receive something, and it wasn't a normal (at) mention, it was a private Direct Message. And it was from Derek. _So, what's up with the DM-ing now?_ All of a sudden, a smirk formed on her lips as her mind proceeded to piece up the fragments. She came up with the conclusion that he was too embarrassed to admit to the whole world wide web that he had lost the very bet that he waged against his stepsister. _Ouch?_ She sneered as she savored the sweetness of her victory over the Derek-kind.

| _d_ _DerekVenturi: This is not fair! Show me the poem then so I'd know who it is about!  
_

_| d LifeWithCasey: I am not showing you any poem. Just suck it up and admit you lost the bet!_

_| d DerekVenturi: How would I know if I really lost this bet? What if you're just making it up?_

_| d LifeWithCasey: Uh, it's my poem? I wrote it. I think I know who the right person is. Just answer my questions, Venturi. Unless you want me to tell your friends that you chickened out of a bet?_

_| d DerekVenturi: Oh, NO WAY! Fine. Just.. whatever, make it quick._

Oh, wow. It felt like cold water rushing down her body. Here she was, not only winning the bet but also given the opportunity to ask Derek three questions - questions that he needed to answer honestly. This was just too much good, or bad. What could she possibly ask? Did she really even want to ask anything? _Oh my god, I don't know. _She was lying to herself; of course, she had something that she wanted to ask for a long time. It was screaming right inside her head, and from her lungs, and from her heart, and from her limbs, and from every single part of her body. In fact, it was flowing right to the tips of her fingers, causing her to type things that the logical section of her brain wouldn't want to put in._  
_

_| d LifeWithCasey: So... here's my first question: Who do you REALLY think the poem is about?_

_| d DerekVenturi: I said Jesse, didn't I? You just wasted a question, next._

_| d LifeWithCasey: Derek, answer it _truthfully_. Who do you think it is about?_

_| d DerekVenturi: That's two questions already. And I've already answered this one, so next. This will be easy._

Casey was getting a heavy feeling in her stomach and her heart from all this ridiculous responses Derek was sending. She was getting more upset by the minute, but in a way she couldn't really blame him. What else would she expect from Derek the _feelings-dodger_, the _tears-evader_? It was like talking to a rock, he just wouldn't budge.

_| d LifeWithCasey: Derek.._

Derek sighed heavily. He didn't want to bring this up. _Stupid Sam and his stupid big mouth_. So, he was affected a little. No, A LOT. How stupid was it to intentionally lose the bet just to avoid the subject, only to be driven to where he didn't want to go? Why couldn't Casey just ask what his favorite color is or what's hiding under his bed? Simple questions in life that begged for simple answers. Like, the capital of Ontario or the biggest city in Canada. _Wait, what is the biggest city in Canada? Toronto? _He slapped his cheek repeatedly, cursing himself for even getting both of them in this mess in the first place. He wanted to disturb Edwin in his sleep to ask for advice. But, that might only encourage the _creep_ to go all Sherlock Holmes on his ass and investigate this, whatever _this_ was. He realized that he just couldn't avoid this anymore, he had to say what had been pounding loudly in his mind for the longest time before he goes insane._  
_

_| d DerekVenturi: Fine. I think that the poem is about.. me. Because everything is about me, anyway._

_| d LifeWithCasey: Could you be any more narcissistic?_

_| d DerekVenturi: Yes. Yes, I could._

| _d LifeWithCasey: Whatever. Hypothetically speaking, of course, what would you do if I DID write a poem about you?_

_| d DerekVenturi: Sorry, you've reached your limit. No more questions._

_| d LifeWithCasey: What? This is just my second question!_

_| d DerekVenturi: You've used up all your questions, princess. Why don't you check it?_

_| d LifeWithCasey: You are really making this hard for me, aren't you?_

_| d DerekVenturi: What? I'm just following the rules. There's nothing wrong with that._

_| d LifeWithCasey: Derek, please. Just... answer me._

He couldn't believe how persistent Casey was. Why couldn't she just drop the whole thing and pretend this bet never existed _ever_ in their lifetime? In fact, it would benefit them both, right? _Right?_ He was starting to feel light-headed, like something was also rushing from inside his stomach, up to his esophagus. He held his mouth with his right hand as he tried to keep it in. He didn't know if he wanted to answer her back. But since she was playing hard ball, what else could he do? He would be plagued with her voice, asking this question in his head, for the rest of the night if he didn't finish this soon enough._  
_

_| d DerekVenturi: I don't know... I guess I would want to know what you really wanted to say. There._

Casey's heart fluttered as she read his reply. For once, he actually answered her properly, without any cockiness or the usual Derek-attitude. He was kind of sincere. Kind of. She let out a heavy sigh as she stared at her monitor, a small smile forming on her lips. Heat was creeping on her cheeks and she couldn't help but touch them as she fought a squeal coming out from her mouth by biting her lips._  
_

_| d LifeWithCasey: Oh.. well.. then.. the poem was about you... _

Derek might have had held his breath at record-breaking time - at least, his record. So, he was right all along. Yes, he knew he was right anyway. But _dammit_ he didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to acknowledge this, he didn't want to even have this _thing_ plaguing his head and eating up most of his brain cells. He let out a very heavy sigh and knocked his head on the desk three times. He didn't understand why his heart felt like leaving the rest of his circulatory system. He felt his own cheeks heating up from all _this _- whatever _this_ was.

_| d DerekVenturi: Nice try. Haha! Very funny, really. You're getting good at pranking. You're taking it to the next level. I must say, hats off. _

Casey's jaw dropped and her heart sank as she began reading his latest message. Did he think this was all just a joke? That she was making things up just because she wanted to get him back? She wasn't that evil and she would definitely not toy with feelings if ever she'd want a 'payback' time. This made her sad and hurt - sad that Derek thought everything was a game, and hurt that she just confessed something very important but he chose to make fun of her._  
_

_| d LifeWithCasey: You think this is funny? Why would I put myself through the torture just to prank you? I would not make something like this up... unfortunately._

He didn't reply anymore. Thirty minutes had already passed, but still, nothing. She felt uncomfortable in her position, hanging by a thread, not knowing what was going on inside his head or what he even really thought of her confession. It wasn't like it was that big of a deal, right? She just confessed that he was the subject of her poem. _Yeah, right._ Who was she kidding? This was a huge deal. 'Thoughts of you seem to bother my mind lately'? Yeah. What's next? 'Can't eat, can't sleep, over the fence, world series kind of _thing_'? She sighed as she kept her focus on the monitor. She could either let this pass and pretend nothing happened or face the music. She's a dancer, if she would face the music, she'd choose to dance to it. But she was also klutzy, so she could definitely trip and fall.

* * *

"Derek," she called out to him softly outside his door.

No answer. She decided to knock, but not too loudly, since she didn't want to wake the rest of the siblings on the same floor.

"Derek," she repeated.

Finally, the door opened to reveal the mystery person in her poem. His face remained blank but his eyes were saying a thousand words - oh, if only she could understand what they were telling. She wasn't entirely sure but she thought she had seen that expression in his eyes already before. Yeah, the 'brother-stepbrother-same difference' conversation they had after graduation. Only now, he didn't bother blinking that expression away, it kind of stayed there. His eyes were like two pieces of cold magma, staring at her, piercing her own with both coldness and heat. She didn't know what to do or what to say. They were in that state for what seemed to be forever before Derek went back to his position on his bed, leaving the door open as an invitation for Casey to enter. And she did, then closed the door behind her.

He was now hiding under the covers, surprisingly not starting an argument or a heated debate about their previous topic or any topic under the sun. He was just there, under the sheets, breathing softly, which made Casey unsure if he had already fallen into a deep slumber or if he was still awake. He was lying still, looking so peaceful - or maybe because she couldn't see what he was doing under his blanket.

"'What I Really Wanted to Say' by Casey McDonald," she started as she unfolded the piece of paper she was holding, hands shaking.

"I-I've been thinking for quite a while.. thoughts of.. you seem to bother my mind lately," she continued on, stammering a bit and glancing over at Derek who was still unresponsive, although he did shift and face his body away from the side where she was standing. "And the words in my mouth taste like bile.. the condition we're in is just… hazy."

"How do I confess something I've tried to hide? I know that you must not agree," she read on, gripping the paper tighter than necessary. Her mind was telling her to cease reading already and get out of his room that instant, but her body just wasn't letting her do that. It was like being controlled by a different set of neurons, and wherever the impulses were originating, the control center was definitely not her brain.

"That.. that feelings are being bottled up inside.. and the truth is just bursting to be set free," her heart throbbed a little as she the word 'feelings' escape from her lips. Here she was, making a fool of herself, talking to a person who was probably already dozing off and not paying attention to whatever she was saying, and her actions weren't even resulting into anything remotely positive or neutral, at least. She couldn't help but feel heavy with defeat.

"Case.." Derek uttered huskily, shifting from his position to face her and pulling the covers off his face.

"D-do you want me to stop?" Casey asked, voice cracking a bit from hearing him utter her name in an unfamiliar tone.

"It's just that.." He moved himself upward to a sitting position and inched closer to the headboard to lean against it, staring down and removing his gaze from her.

"What?" She tightened her grasp on the edges of the paper she was holding, which was still held up at chest level.

"I don't.." He did his own tight-grasping, but it was the fabric of his blanket that was crumpling within his fist.

The silence in the room was beyond deafening. Not one of them even dared to say anything, but their heads were screaming a lot of things. And even Derek, who was being begged by the situation to add more vocabulary to his sentences, sat on his bed in complete reticence. His breathing was erratic, probably because his heart had been racing so fast from experiencing such a heavy rush of _stuff_ that he couldn't explain - or didn't want to explain. Why had this been a daily occurrence for him lately? It was so hard for him to get a good night sleep. And what was so different and nerve-racking about this night was that the person in his thoughts wasn't just in his mind, she's standing there _in the flesh_ inside his room, with him - the two of them together, alone. At least when she wasn't there, he could still smack his head or slap himself and usually that would do the trick. But not now, he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of her. He shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his temples with the edges of his palms then brought his hands behind his head and sighed.

"Say something..." Casey was the one who broke the silence. She was still standing on the side of the bed nearest the door, where she had been all along since she came inside. She didn't dare to move an inch, just in case her movement would create a greater problem. Because she knew what she wanted to do at this point in time, and it wasn't to hit her stepbrother with a stick. It wasn't to slap a towel in his face, nor was it to dump garbage on his head. No, she wanted to be closer. How close, she didn't know. But she wanted to just reach out to him. And touch him. Maybe even just the edge of his fingernail or an inch of his hair strand.

Derek's chest started to heave. It was getting harder to breathe. He wanted to say something to her, but he just couldn't figure out what. Or if he even did, he couldn't figure out how. All he wanted to do was disappear, along with the _stuff_ that was happening to him at that moment. He didn't want to stare at Casey, because he was afraid. Afraid that it would make him move and his movement would create a greater problem. She seemed so close, yet so far. As always, as it had always been for years. And somehow it made his heart ache. She was there and he didn't want to set his eyes, which look like every single conundrum in life rolled into two round, brown irises, on her because he didn't want her to see right through him.

"I don't want to talk about.. f-f.." He slowly built his words up, but somehow failing to say the most important part. "Yeah."

Casey felt a stab in her heart as she stared at the person whom she had spent many nights thinking about. What was she thinking, coming into his room and reading him this lame poem? She just made a complete spectacle of herself. And the sad thing about this was that, it didn't end up the way she wanted it to end in her heart. If only her body was entirely made of logical, common sense, she wouldn't be this embarrassed. She knew he didn't have to finish it, she could figure out what he was trying to say. He was rejecting her, yes, he was. She wanted to scream but she didn't know where to draw the strength from.

"Okay.." She said softly, getting teary-eyed from the piercing pain building up in her chest.

She advanced towards the door and reached for the knob, aiming to leave the room as soon as possible.

"You.. just irritate me a lot.."

Surprised at his sudden release of words, she turned her head to where the voice came from, eyebrows scrunched and mouth gaped from a mixture of hurt, confusion, and disbelief. It was as if what he said before wasn't enough to hurt her. _How insensitive could he be?_

"Excuse me?"

"..and fight with me every single time."

This time, she fully turned her body to face him, eyes now squinted. Derek moved from his leaning position and slid to the side of the bed, feet landing on the floor, eyes still focused downward. He sat there with agitation and helplessness written all over his face - in fact, his entire body. He was having a hard time trying to formulate the right sentences, the right words and phrases.

"You.. tried to take my room, you.. tried to _girlify_ the whole house," he raised both his hands, fingers splayed in emphasis.

"And you.. are like this.. thing that I can't.." His words faltering as he went on trying to put his thoughts into a language that hopefully both of them would understand. "You.."

"I.." He winced and tightened his lips as he curled his fist into a ball. "You.. are destroying my tough guy rep!"

"And.. I guess.. what I want to say is.." He stopped for a while in hesitation, lips trembling, then inhaled deeply and released as much air as he could.

".. I'm okay with that."

"What are you.." Casey looked at him with questioning eyes. She drew a little closer to the spot he was occupying.

"Yeah, I think that's it. I think. It's better than.." Derek continued, as if not hearing her inquisitive words, still not looking up to meet her eyes.

"Not.. seeing you there," he finished his sentence in an almost inaudible voice. Almost too faint to be heard. "So. Yeah."

"What?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He quickly looked up, slightly irked.

"I.. I did, but.." Casey cleared, but not wiping the puzzled look off her face. "Why?"

She slowly made her way in front of him and knelt down on both her knees so that their faces would be at each other's eye level. Derek wasn't looking directly at her, but he was staring at the shirt that was sloppily lying on the floor. She reluctantly inched her fingers to touch the arm that was resting on his thigh. Her touch was like freezing ice on his skin, making him gasp and causing him to meet her eyes with such intensity that he had not yet shown before. She was waiting for him to fend her hand off, but it didn't happen - he didn't do anything. He let her keep her grasp on his arm even though goosebumps were forming on his skin.

"Why is it better than.. not seeing me?"

"Because.." Derek started, staring at her intently, eyes filled with both longing and sadness, "I need you."

Casey felt the sudden need to inhale sharply. She wasn't expecting those words at all. He needed her? It was still open-ended and unclear, but he admitted the vitality of her existence in his life. Whatever force had caused him to make such a surprising revelation, she didn't know. But it was a shock for her to hear those emotion-describing words from him.

"I mean, it's.. it's hard to be the only older sibling in the house," he added quickly.

"Yeah.." Casey croaked. _Oh my god, did he just imply.._ She removed her hand from his arm and supported her trembling body as she stood up slightly and sat beside him on the bed. She wanted to clutch her pounding chest tightly but she needed to end this conversation properly. "I mean, the pranks.. the fighting.. the cocky attitude.." She tried to say whatever words seemed needed to be said, whatever would seem reciprocal to what he had chosen to admit.

"I'm okay with that, too," she concluded.

"Just so you know, I don't hate you," Derek said, glancing at her. "I don't know what makes you think I do, but I don't."

Casey put all her energy into her lips as she weakly smirked and said, "I know. You're just infuriating. But you're a good guy, Derek Venturi."

"Yeah, shocker," he rolled his eyes and smirked, nudging her lightly after, to which she responded with her own eye-roll and a faint smile.

"Does this mean we're going to have our 'feel-good family moment'?" She jokingly asked.

"Hah, no. But high five is good," he responded with a quick nod.

"Yeah, high five is good," she replied and nodded in agreement.

"High five?" Derek faced her, lifted his hand up quickly, palm forward, and smiled.

"High five," Casey rolled her eyes and obliged to the hand gesture by slapping her own palm onto his, smiling back at him and shaking her head.

She didn't exactly know what to feel or how she should be feeling. But she should be okay, right? At least she knew how important she was as a part of the McDonald-Venturi household. At least he was fine with her around. She was fine with him around. They were fine with each other around. They were _fine_. Everything's _fine_. Everything's _okay_. Who was she to be hurt about things being _okay_? This was how things were supposed to be, how they had always been, and how they're going to stay. She sighed and smiled weakly to herself as she stood up and prepared to leave.

"Oh, and Derek.." She glanced back at her stepbrother who had already went back to lying comfortably on the bed.

"Hmm?"

"I like my pancakes not burnt."

Derek groaned as he covered his face with his pillow. He had totally forgotten about that.

* * *

**A/N: **Haha, sorry for the drama. I know, I was also annoyed when that happened. Well, actually this was a little more dramatic than the original story, since they were actually happy after that 'cause they realized they're okay with each other. But I don't know, mine turned out to be sadder. Eeek. :s I intentionally left out Derek's thoughts towards the end, 'cause the chapter would be longer. But yeah, he kinda knew that Casey was hurt, that's why he nudged her as a way of saying 'it's okay'.

Also, I've made some of the tweets as DMs since I figured that Derek would be embarrassed to say the rest of the convo in public. I also added the pancake part because I skipped that in the original timeline. So yeah, this is different from the original Twitter timeline/story but some aspects are still similar to the plot. Especially the next chapter. ;)

AHH, I'm kind of iffy about this chapter 'cause of the sad end, but I hope I didn't disappoint. :s

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel** - You're welcome! Haha, don't worry, snare drums shouldn't be heavy for Ralph. He was carrying one in the episode 'Casey and Ralph?'

**MermaidMidna** - Girl, thank you so much! That means a lot! I was seriously scared to post this before because I thought it wouldn't be that okay. Haha! I've read so many fanfics but this is my first time trying to write one. I'm super glad you're enjoying it!

**Frogster_ - _**Thanks for the chapter reviews! I'm laughing at your 'birds and bees' comment! OMG that is so true, eh? LOL! And about Truman and Vicky - since they're like.. versions of Derek and Casey, wouldn't their kissing be an implication of Derek and Casey kissing too? Hehehe.

**Credits: **LifeWithCasey for the poem lines at the end of the story (slight edit) and response to Derek (from 'I mean the pranks' to 'I'm okay with that'), DerekVenturi for the response (starting from 'you just irritate me' to 'I'm okay with that')


	7. Chapter 7: The Shortest Route

**A/N:** Really sorry for the long hiatus! I wanted to enjoy my first month out of school (graduating in May, yay) by relaxing, so I kind of put this aside for a bit. But anyway, I'm back! How's everyone doing?

Thank you for the amazing reviews, you guys. I'm so happy that you're liking the story so far! I'm finding it hard to get back to my writing mode, so I apologize in advance if it's not up to par. But, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own LWD, Twitter, or any of the other trademarks. Tweets in this chapter are owned by me. Matthew is also my added character. Few of dialogues are inspired by the Twitter Dasey - LifeWithCasey and DerekVenturi.

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Shortest Route to the Mall is through a Pancake Fight**

"Morning, sleepyhead."

Casey wiped her eyes and blinked a couple of times before she could fully recognize the identity of the figure standing behind the kitchen island. She already knew who it was, judging from the voice she just heard; but then again, him plus cooking plus mornings plus weekends equals _undefined_, _syntax error_, or maybe _the limit does not exist_. Kind of like dividing by zero (Read: asymptote). Whatever made him defy the laws of Physics by going against gravity in the wee hours of the morning must be pretty darn life-changing.

Shaking her head quickly to get rid of the math equations forming in her mind, she walked towards the kitchen.

It wasn't like it was really weird. Okay, so it was. He wasn't exactly the first person she would like to see the morning after the unfortunate _close-to-_confession failure that made her whole night uncomfortable. She really wanted some space, a little room to breathe, but seeing as that wish wouldn't be granted in this shared abode of theirs, what else could she do? She was finding it hard to deal with this issue, but she had no other choice than to go with the flow. It was the right thing to do, especially now that she was convinced that whatever it was that she was feeling, it was never requited. He made it clear last night, she is _family_ to him. She finally understood what that expression in his eyes were all along – pity. It was never what she had hoped for.

Letting out a heavy sigh in remembrance of the embarrassment she had brought upon herself, she tried her best to look normal and unaffected.

"Wow, you're up early," she said as she made her way to the opposite end of the island and sat on a stool, not forgetting the fact that this was still Derek and he was busying himself at this time of day. "_Way_ too early."

"Yep. I figured, if I'm going to make your pancakes, I need to wake up earlier," replied Derek who just stuffed another chunk of pancake in his mouth as he continued to flip the rest on the griddle.

Casey snorted as she thought of how he would really need hours of practice and hundred dollars worth of pancake batter in order for him to produce anything remotely close to acceptable. Derek, who was observing her mental trip to outer space, narrowed his eyes before completely rolling them. He just knew she had silently insulted him in her mind.

"Here, I made you your favorite," he pushed the plate with stacked pancakes in front of her.

_Ugh. _She couldn't stop the involuntary upward curving of her lips. Despite what happened last night, she couldn't help but still feel the butterflies in her stomach, crashing the walls wildly beyond her control. What was he doing, trying to be all nice to her? Well, he's being very _brotherly_, what else could he be doing? It was the second time that week that he did something that she, in her romantic nature, considered as 'sweet'. Of course, this was all part of the bet and he was obviously just forced to oblige, but he didn't have to make the extra effort to cook her favorite kind of pancake: blueber–

"Der-ek, these are chocolate chip pancakes! These are _YOUR _favorite!"

"_Oh_, that's right. You're the 'blueberry pancake' type of person," he snickered in satisfaction upon hearing her expected response, grabbing the plate back and positioning it beside the griddle again. "Well, guess I'll have to finish this up for you. Wouldn't want it to go to waste now, would we?"

"Unbelievable. Whatever happened to cooking pancakes for _ME_?" Casey rolled her eyes and huffed in disbelief. _Of course, he had to be the usual Derek. His nice phase doesn't even last longer than five minutes! _The universe had finally gotten back to its former balanced state.

"For the record, I never said 'loser needs to cook pancakes for the winner'. I said 'loser needs to cook pancakes tomorrow'. So, technically, I don't owe you anything," he retorted, taking the plate and waving it in front of her face.

"You slimy, sly twister of words," she glared at him and pursed her lips.

"What do you know, even when I lose, I still win," he smirked as he flipped the last of the chocolate chip pancakes high up in the air and made it land perfectly on the stack he was holding. "And it sticks the landing!"

Derek's perfect pancake-catching moment got immediately interrupted by Casey who had just gone to other side to push him away from the cooking area, "Move."

"No, no. I got it. Prepare the batter. I'll make the pancakes," he said as he put the plate down, walked around her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her in front of the fridge as a signal for her to get the pack of blueberries.

It tingled. The sensation brought about by his palms resting on her shoulders made her shiver. And even though it was momentary, Casey couldn't help but hold her breath while mentally slapping herself for entertaining thoughts and feelings that clearly her _brother_ made sure he had no business dealing with. She rolled her eyes as she proceeded to open the fridge door. Sometimes, she just didn't get him at all. So, was this 'okay with each other' clause a good reason to be cooperative now? Well, at least he's insistent in making her pancakes. _Part of the bet, why else?_

"Where's everybody?" She asked while placing the blueberries on the island and readying the ingredients for the batter.

"In the basement, I tied them all up. I don't want to be disturbed," he casually replied before shoving an entire flapjack in his mouth, as if his reply wasn't weird.

"De-rek," she scolded him while pouring the pancake mix into a bowl.

"Wall summone wokupron wongsadoff dubed," he mumbled over a mouthful of pancake, crumbs spraying on the counter as he spoke.

Casey lifted the bowl away from the direction of the landing cake crumbs and stared at him in disgust. "Ew! How about _not_ talking while your mouth is full?"

"Pft," he continued chewing obnoxiously.

"I didn't even want to wake up because I'm gonna have to see your face again," she sassed back, a bit intrigued that she could understand all that grumble perfectly.

"Ouch," Derek replied after gulping the last of his mouth's contents, quickly placing his palm against his chest and feigning hurt. "That's not a way to talk to the mystery person in your poem."

"Don't remind me," Casey rolled her eyes as she remembered the night before, feeling a sudden rush of heat creeping across her cheeks. She kept her gaze down on the mixing bowl so that he wouldn't notice what effect this memory had on her. _Why is he even bringing that up? This is not helping the _'siblingship' _we're supposed to have. So what if I wrote that? It will never happen again._ She sighed and nodded to herself in agreement with her thoughts.

"I don't have to. I wrote it in your planner for every single Monday for the rest of the year," he replied teasingly, beaming her a wide grin.

"Der-ek! Do have nothing else to do with your life? You went inside my room again?"

"Maybe."

Putting a sudden pause to what she was currently doing, Casey started to make a mad dash for the stairs to check his claims for herself, but Derek's reflexes acted faster than the motions of her feet, grabbing her arm and halting her right there and then.

"I didn't!" he mentioned in his defense, using his grip to pull her closer. "I think I've had enough prying in your secret vault to last me for decades."

"If you'll last that long," she jerked her arm away to remove his hold and continued on with her previous activity.

"What? You're plotting my death now, too?" He responded as he faced her, placing his elbows on the counter and resting his chin on his knuckles, eyebrow raised and lips pouted.

"Done already. It's in my planner," she answered without looking at him, not very eager to see him sporting his goofy grin or wearing his infamous smirk at that moment.

"Remind me to tear that page later."

Casey merely shook her head and didn't bother replying to this nonsense. If there's anything that she wanted at that point in time, that's to finish this whole bet situation that she had the misfortune of ever participating with the eldest Venturi spawn. It was hard enough to be in the same place with him, alone, and his presence inches away from where she stood. It was hard enough that she was being plagued by thoughts of _what-ifs_ and _maybes_ with regard to his unusual anti-nocturnal actions, or should she say, anti-Derek actions in the last hour or so of them together downstairs. Sure, he was still a jerk, that had always been a given. But her intuition was telling her that this was weird. That any minute now, he should be receiving a huge, deadly zap from the heavens if he didn't revert to his normal early morning routine of lying in his bed and dozing off until sometime in the afternoon. There was something else going on. She knew him, and this wasn't a common occurrence. So, there could be only one explanation for this - everybody else was up already. _Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe George planned a surprise weekend family trip and he forced him up to get up early. __Yeah, that definitely makes sense. __Any minute now, Mom will come up and tell me to get ready. Ugh, I don't even know if I want to go.  
_

"So, where are we going today?" She curiously inquired.

"What?"

Casey ignored his confusion as she continued voicing out her train of thoughts, ".. oh, but I promised Emily we'd watch a movie later this afternoon."

"What are you talking about?" Derek scrunched his eyebrows and tried hard to remember if he had even set a.. _hangout thing_ with Casey. _What, was I 'sleep planning' now?  
_

"I'm talking about George's weekend trip plan. That's why you're up." She cleared, glancing at him.

"Huh?"

".. question is, why didn't they wake me first?" Casey stared into the empty space in front of her and carried on thinking aloud.

"Okay, you really need to stop doing that. It's weird."

Casey answered it with an eye roll. "Seriously though, where's everyone?"

"Haven't you seen the clock? It's six a.m., on a Saturday. They're not yet up."

"Oh-kay," Casey mouthed in wonder, scratching the trip thought off her imaginary list. "And you're up at six, because?"

Derek stiffened. He hated questions like this, questions that caught him off guard. He wasn't expecting her to even query his presence in the kitchen. A guy plus a room full of food - that should add up quite well in that supposedly smart brain of hers. _What's with the asking? It's my body. I think I can get up whenever I want to. Besides, why is she even downstairs? Not part of my day plan. _His eyeballs hurriedly scanned for something that he could use as an inspiration for formulating a very articulate and well thought out answer. And he had found it.

"I'm making pancakes, duh? I said that a while ago," he answered as his gaze landed on the stack of pancakes which he then pulled nearer to grab another piece. "If I only knew you were going to forget about that, I would've stayed in bed until lunch time. Sheesh."

"Oh please, not even pancake-making would make you wake up at six on any day, let alone, a _Saturday._"

_What is this? Q&A Part Dos? _He pursued his lips as he tried to come up with a better alibi. He couldn't help but feel nauseous lately with all these questions that oddly made him wish he had the ability to disappear and reappear somewhere else. See, it was fine when they're bickering or teasing each other; that was normal. Insulting and almost killing each other if not for familial intervention, very normal. But all these _yee_ questions that he didn't even know where she had been getting from or keeping in were making him squirm. Especially last night's questions. He was definitely lucky to be still alive after being grilled in the hot seat. A+ in the science of evasiveness, really. But also A+ in the art of being moronic and dunce. Casey looked hurt. But what could he do? He didn't want to hear the rest of the poem. He wasn't ready to know what she really wanted to say._  
_

"Maybe because my inconvenience of a stepsister slept with her bagpipes again," he retorted. "Dad should really put soundproof walls in my room. And that vent, not helping."

Casey sighed. She knew this conversation would never take the easy road. As if there was even an 'easy road' when it came to him. "Can't sleep, huh?"

"Are you done with that batter yet? You put a turtle to shame with your slowness."

There was verbal silence in the room for a couple of minutes - minutes that seemed very long and painstakingly awkward. No words, just the sound of the whisk occasionally hitting the sides and the bottom of the bowl as Casey whipped the batter to an even consistency. Derek was watching her work, surprisingly silent. He was somehow relieved that she wasn't looking up and staring back at him. There had been numerous times in the past already when he would stop whatever he was doing just to watch Casey do kitchen work. But, he didn't remember ever being this close. And there's no arguing. Just silence. There was something about her cooking that was making his stomach feel like being tied into a tight knot. Not hunger, no. Not that she was a horrible cook, no. She's _Casserole Casey_, she's really good. He wondered of how many more times he would wake up in the morning to her making breakfast, clad in her pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, hair slightly messed up, but nevertheless looking.. like Casey. Mornings when he would come to the kitchen and see her making food for _him._ Mornings when she would greet him with a smile and ask if he slept well. Mornings when he would go behind her, wrap his arms around her waist, and rest his chin on her shoulder._ What?_

"Matthew called me yesterday afternoon," Casey started, aware that he was watching her but wasn't sure if he was more interested in her pancake batter or the extra blueberries sitting on the counter. "You know, Emily's friend.. the one I was supposed to go on a date with, if not for your prank?"

Blinking his eyes to take his mind back to earth, Derek left his spot and drew closer to the griddle to turn it on and heat it up. He was silent for a few seconds, and Casey started to doubt that he even heard what she said. His face seemed tense, his jaws clenching, and she began to think if she had said something wrong.

"Okay?" He finally answered. "Why are we talking about this?"

"Well.. I don't know. Just thought I'd let you know," she responded, tapping the whisk against the side of the bowl to free the excess batter sticking on it and glancing at his face to see if his expression had changed or lightened up. Apparently not.

"Do I look like a diary to you? Do I look like I have a 'tell me all your secrets because I care' sign on my forehead?" He argued, pointing to his temples. He then took the bowl from her hands and poured the batter on the dispenser.

"I thought we're okay with each other?"

"Sure, but we're _not_ best friends. Aren't you supposed to be bugging Emily about this?"

"Yeah, well.. I'm just saying.."

"What do you want me to do? Go all.. _Oh really, girl? Oh my god, that's __so__ like totally awesome! He's so hot! You should go out with him!__ AHH!_" Derek parodied, making high-pitched noises and fanning his mouth with his fingers.

"We don't sound like that!" She scoffed in protest.

"Sure, you don't," he sarcastically replied as he flipped the cakes he had poured through the dispenser earlier.

"So, we're back to the same old bickering, I'm assuming," she stated, trying to calm her nerves.

Derek didn't reply. Silence overcame the entire room once again, and this time, it wasn't awkward. It was full of tension. Like someone could drop a pin on the floor and the whole house would explode. Like any one could come in the kitchen and ask for breakfast, and they'd angrily scream and leap forward to attack. Luckily, there was no pin around and there was definitely no one coming any time soon. So, there was only silence. One would wonder if they decided to have a mental duel and kill each other in their brains. Their movements were very limited, as if one wrong move and they'd find themselves on top of each other, both holding one by the neck. The tension lasted for a few minutes before either of them eased up and started acting more normal and less guarded.

"I'm taking Marti to the mall tomorrow," Derek decided to speak.

"Well, that's a shocker," Casey grabbed a fork to try out the ones that he had already stacked up on the plate.

"She made me swear last week and Dad gave me the 'or else', so what can I do?" He simply shrugged.

"Right. As if you don't have any ulterior motives at all," she replied, clearly unconvinced.

"Bingo! Well, it's been a few days since I've last had a date. So, might score some hot blonde chicks there. Girls dig the 'caring older brother' type of guy," he proudly announced, doing his trademark wink-_tsk-tsk_-point gesture after.

It was Casey's turn to tense up. And although she realized that Derek's pancake cooking could pass her standards, she just lost all her appetite and maybe a few tastebuds along with it.

"What a gallant knight, you are. Using your little sister to harvest some ditzy gals on the field. How about a Nobel Prize for your efforts?"

"Ha-Ha. Is there a Nobel Prize for failed sarcasm? 'Cause I'd like to nominate your _jealousy_."

Her eyes shot wide open and her jaw dropped rock bottom in disbelief. "Uh, excuse me? I am not jeal-"

"Fine, then why don't _you_ take her to the mall?"

"Oh, now you're just trying to get out of your obligation," Casey held out her hand in front of her in disagreement. "Not happening, _bro_."

"Whatever you say, _sis_," Derek sneered.

* * *

"Der-ek! Flip it already! You're burning it."

"No, don't disturb me when I'm cooking! I got this."

"Give me that spatula, I'll do it myself."

"Stop!"

It wasn't like it wasn't normal. It very much was. The two eldest step siblings engaged in a tug-of-war battle, both hands gripping the handle of the spatula. Derek, being the one with more strength, tried to pull the utensil closer to the griddle while Casey tugged it towards her. He managed to slide it under the nearly burnt pancake, but since Casey was dragging it stubbornly, the pancake landed on the floor. Grunting in frustration, he bent down and used the spatula, which she had finally released from her tight hold, to launch the food upward. Whether he was planning for this or not, it hit Casey straight in the face. Moments later, crumbs of pancake were sent flying in the air as the two assumed fighting by throwing the rest of the stack at each other. It wasn't long before blueberries and eggs joined the mix as they continue brewing this recipe of theirs - recipe for disaster, that is.

"What's this commotion all about?" Nora looked around the place, seeing the mess that the two created. George couldn't help but clench his jaw and shake his head when he accidentally stepped on an already cracked egg, its yolk now sticking on the sole of his slipper.

The groggy and confused couple had walked in on their heated food fight, seeing Derek pushing Casey against the wall, holding her by the wrist, and Casey holding the spatula horizontally against his chest.

"Nothing," they both said at the same time, straightening up and trying to tidy themselves. Casey bit her lower lip. Derek kicked the empty box of eggs behind him.

"Don't you two ever give each other a break? Fighting in the wee hours of the morning?" George stared at the two whose eyes were averted somewhere else, Casey being the more agitated of the two.

"Everyone else in the house is still sleeping. We don't even know why you're down here making pancakes," Nora raised her voice, pointing her finger at the griddle and the mess on top of the counter.

"Or trashing the kitchen," George added.

"But Derek started it!" Casey stepped out and defended herself.

"What? It was an accident!" Derek scowled, looking at Casey and then at their parents.

"No, it wasn't! You flung it right on my face!" Casey turned around and lifted her hands to push him again, which Derek grabbed and kept from advancing towards him.

"Cut it out!" George scolded them. The two let go of each other and moved farther away to put a huge gap between them. "Derek, you stop your childish act and quit playing with food."

"How is making pancakes even childish? If anything, I should be looking more mature right now, because I think I can cook better than _you_," Derek smirked and folded his arms across his chest.

"Oh yeah?" George, obviously not amused at his backtalk, widened his eyes and mirrored his son's arm-crossing action.

"Yep," Derek nodded once.

"How about this for 'looking more mature'? You're not taking Marti to the mall tomorrow, you're taking her today."

"Wha- But, Dad!" Derek objected in a flash.

"Enough, cancel whatever you have planned this afternoon," George hushed him.

"Ha-ha!" Casey directed two mockingly annoying syllables at her stepbrother, quite pleased with how the situation had been proceeding. Derek gave her his 'not amused' look and sneered back.

"Don't 'ha-ha' him, young lady, you're going with them," Nora immediately told her daughter, making Casey wipe the winning grin off her face.

"What!" Casey blurted while Derek waved his finger in the air and ranted, "Oh, you are not serious!"

Derek animatedly began his tirade, "It's bad enough that I'm being forced to ditch my planned hangout with my friends! Do I really need to suffer more? All this for cooking pancakes?" Casey burst out her own concern simultaneously, "I'm hanging out with Emily today! We're watching a movie together! I'm not passing that up to be with Derek..!"

".. even though it would be nice to spend time with Marti," Casey finished last.

"Oh, you heard her! Make her take Marti to the mall!" Derek quickly pointed his finger at Casey in dire attempt to convince them.

"Zip it," George answered.

"I'm not going to the mall with Casey! She's gonna drag me to one of those really _girly_ stores like.. Victoria's Secret to buy bras!" Derek stepped even closer to the couple to plead his case further.

"Excuse me? I will not buy undergarments when I'm around a _PIG_ like you!" Casey shot him her death glare, fist clenched and cheeks red from embarrassment. She wanted to strangle him to death that instant.

".. she's going to try out some of the lacy ones and make me pick which one looks best on her," He continued scowling, ignoring her words.

"Oh my god, Der-ek! I would never do that!" Casey couldn't believe he was saying these things in front of them. It was like announcing to the whole student body that she was having her period. Which he would totally do if that evil thought came across his evil mind._ Lowbred, pompous buffoon!  
_

".. Dad, don't torture me like this!" Derek finished his plea, not caring about what his stepsister was saying behind him.

George glanced past Derek to Casey and let out a chuckle. "Torture him like that."

"George?" Nora reprimanded and shot him a glare, making him purse his lips and contain his amusement.

"Ew! I'm not parading myself wearing almost nothing in front of Derek!" Casey cried out in disgust.

"Ew. Like I'd want to see what's underneath her granny clothes. It's bad enough to get a daily dose of her wearing nothing but a towel. Try bathrobe."

"Pig!"

"Keener!"

"Slob!"

"Klutzilla!"

"Pervert!"

"Not for you!" They were inches away from each other, chests heaving, and noses almost touching. They could feel each other's breath on their skin - warm, moist, and tingly.

"Stop it, you two! Learn to cooperate because we're not changing our minds," Nora shouted while she and George tugged their arms and separated them to keep them from clawing each other out. "And clean this mess!"

* * *

_| DerekVenturi: Casey!_

_| LifeWithCasey: What?_

_| DerekVenturi: Tell Dad and Nora that you're not going to the mall with me._

_| LifeWithCasey: Did your hearing aid pop into your empty head? Why don't YOU do it?_

_| DerekVenturi: Because I'm not the one who started the pancake fight!_

_| LifeWithCasey: Oh, so you're not going to own up to your fault again, I see. Deal with it!_

_| DerekVenturi: Help me out, fake a cough or something. Tell them you're infected with a rare.. keening disease. I can't have you around at the mall!_

_| LifeWithCasey: You think I'm happy with this? I have plans today and you are not supposed to be in it. But every time I try to have a Derek-free time, somehow this universe makes fun of me by putting your existence in my face. _

_| DerekVenturi: Well, your existence doesn't exactly scream "yay" to me either. So, save me the "boo hoo" and help me get out of this mess._

_| LifeWithCasey: Your mess, your clean-up._

Knocking his head on his desk, Derek breathed out heavily. Looks like he wasn't going to get out of this one any minute now. _What was she even going to do with us there? __Whine forever until we get home?_ His weekend wasn't starting well and he wasn't liking it. How was he even going to ask someone out on a date if she was going to be present all the time? Not cool at all.

"Dad!"

"No, Derek."

* * *

**A/N: **LOL, they seem to always fight in this fic. I just had to get the pancake/mall thing out of the way so I could get to the other Dasey stuff. Hopefully, fluff comes out when they actually go to the mall, and in the next couple of chapters. This is actually an add-on to the original Twitter plot. In the actual story, Derek took Marti to the mall and he and Casey were tweeting each other the whole time. But, I thought it would be fun if Casey actually goes with them. :)

Again, really sorry if it was bad. Have to switch back into writing mode again. I also have to find LifeWithCasey and DerekVenturi's tweets because they magically disappeared from TwimeMachine, ugh.

Please review! If you have any q's, I'll address them in the next chapter. Much hearts. ❤


	8. Chapter 8: Afternoon at the Mall

**A/N:** Again, thank you, thank you, thank you and a million thank yous to those who have been patiently reading my chapters (ahah) and reviewing them. Also thanks to those who have put this on their alerts and favorites. I can't thank you enough, but hopefully I can thank you with another chapter. So, here we go! Derek, Casey, and Marti at the mall. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! More notes below. Way below, because this is long. :P

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LwD, Twitter or any of the TMs and registered TMs here. Sarah's my added character. Tweets are made by me.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Afternoon at the Mall  
**

"Are we really gonna be stuck together for the rest of the afternoon?"

Derek groaned, letting his head fall back on the headrest of the driver's seat after turning the ignition off. Unfortunately, his 'Dad, I'm sick' and 'Dad, I need to start on my readings for my first college semester' (_What, I'm _desperado! _Or is that '__desesperado'? Whatever!_) alibis didn't convince his father, or anyone really, considering the former was so overused and the latter was just absurd considering his _chillz _reputation. So, here he was in the parking lot of the mall, together with his little sister and not-looking-so-happy eldest step-_keener_. At least they shared sentiments regarding this early weekend punishment.

Breaking the news to Sam was surprisingly easy, since it didn't even last a good minute. Once Sam started with his teasing chuckle, he immediately pressed his thumb on the Talk button to end the call. Maybe it was a good idea not to see them this afternoon after all, seeing as he just tried to plot his best friend's demise in his mind. He seemed to know too much for his own good and he wasn't even saying anything! How creepy was that? Ralph was looking more and more appropriate as a best pal. His 'let's rock' attitude was what he needed for the rest of his summer – maybe the rest of his life.

"If we don't want to get in trouble if either of the 'rents calls, then yes."

Casey was too busy staring at the mall entrance bearing the words "Masonville Place" to even look back at the person beside her as she spoke. As the other ill-fated half of this predicament, she wasn't too thrilled about the setup either. She didn't think that it was fair for her to be forced to waste time with the bane and boon of her existence when she could be using this time to bond with her best friend over a good selection of _romcoms_ and maybe nail painting. _Bane, more bane than boon!_ Right. She didn't make any excuses, unlike Derek, but she stayed in her room and busied herself with novel-reading until she had to get ready for the _hangout of doom_.

Breaking the news to Emily was depressing. At least for her. Her best friend was disappointed because she had already turned down another weekend offer to go hiking in favor of her. Now, she ended up without a hiking trip and without a movie buddy to watch with. Casey desperately wanted to ask her mom for another form of punishment, like maybe washing the dishes for a week, but her _preggo_ hormones were not one to mess with, especially when she was about to give birth soon. At least she's going to do her a favor by keeping Derek's antics away from her personal space. She didn't want her mom to have a premature labor because of his innate reckless stupidity.

"Why don't you want Casey around, Smerek?" Marti leaned forward from the back seat, grabbing both front seats' headrests.

"Because _this_ is not part of the plan," he replied, giving Casey a poke.

"Well, _this _is part of the plan now and _this_ is staying here," Casey said, rolling her eyes and brushing off the part where Derek's finger hit her shoulder. "Whether we like it or not."

* * *

Having Marti around kept the awkwardness and the strain at a tolerable level. It wasn't a total walk in the park, but at least they managed to be slightly civil for the sake of not causing a ruckus in a public place. There was still the occasional glaring and taunting, but they tried to keep it to a minimum (based on their standards, so..) and a fair amount of distance between each other – good thing Marti was such a good divider.

Since the little kid was the reason for going to the mall, she was the 'boss' of the day. She had taken them to the Build-A-Bear Workshop to make her own stuffed toy. At first it was a brother-sister bonding moment - Derek helped out in choosing the animal and even recorded the sound that got included in it. Marti found his imitation of the Joker's 'Why so serious?' too scary for a bunny, so he had to change it to 'Say hello to my little friend!' which he thought would be hilarious once she grew up and realized where that line came from and what 'friend' really meant. Casey was watching them from a distance and was planning to keep it that way when Marti ran to her and asked if she could help with the stitching. She agreed.

"What did you wish for?" Casey asked Marti right after she opened her eyes.

Marti parted her palms to reveal the heart that she had chosen for her new bunny. She had warmed it with her hands while making a wish, just like what the lady 'Bear Builder' told her to do. This was so that her new furry friend would have life and it would keep her wish in its heart forever. Of course, Derek cringed and almost puked when he heard that being mentioned in a squeaky, chipmunk-y voice, but luckily he kept that to himself. And luckily, Casey was there to give him a good elbowing.

"I wished for Smerek to find true love," she replied with a smile. Casey couldn't help but smile back as her hopeless romanticism let out an 'aww' - _inwardly_.

"You.. are too young for these things," Derek pinched Marti's nose while scrunching his, causing her to laugh. His sister took his hand and placed the heart on his palm, telling him to put the heart inside the now stuffed toy. He did as he was told and then gave the bunny to Casey afterward. "Stitch that now, Cinderella."

Casey rolled her eyes and obliged.

* * *

Moments after their Build-A-Bear session, they found themselves in front of the window displays of the Swarovski store. The two girls marveled at the crystal figurines, jewelry, and charms beautifully sitting on the display stands. Their sighs and gasps were audible enough to make Derek, the only guy in the pack, raise his _danger_ flag and slowly back off to go some place else. But he wasn't going anywhere, not when these girls still had the energy to drag him inside. He received his first shirt-pulling of the day from Casey and grimaced as he thought of how many more times his shirt would get crumpled during their stay at the mall.

Both girls exclaimed their 'oohs' when they entered the store. There were gems hanging from the ceiling and the display cases were filled with individual Swarovski crystals arranged into different shapes and designs. They proceeded moving from case to case, but their amazement had not toned down a notch. It was Derek's turn to watch from afar as the two enjoyed their gem-gazing. Although he was showing that he wasn't comfortable in his position, he couldn't help but glance around and be impressed with the natural shine reflected off of the crystals on display. Some of them were almost kaleidoscopic.

His sight-seeing had been going quite well until he saw what his little sister had been doing – she went to the glass-free shelves and started touching each figurine she could reach. She took one in her hand and examined it, but since she wasn't holding it carefully, the figurine wobbled perilously on her palm.

"Marti, be careful!"

Derek warned as he rushed to where she was standing, but it was too late, the figurine went crashing to the floor and breaking into pieces. He stood there, face pale and body stiff for a few moments, then slowly turned his head sideways to check the prices of the others on the shelf. His face went even paler when he realized that most of them were within the $300 to $1000 range. _Oh, I'm so screwed._ Marti tugged on his arm, looking extremely worried and scared.

A middle-aged saleslady quickly approached the scene of the crime to see what happened. Scattered pieces of the broken figurine lay on the floor. Derek was still standing there with Marti hiding behind him. Seeing her outraged reaction, he tapped his sister's shoulder and told her to go check out the other display boxes in the corner. She shook her head and kept her grip on his arm. Derek faced the saleslady and opened his mouth to speak, when he saw Casey hurrying to the place and seeing what the Venturi siblings had done. He gulped hard as the two ladies shot him glares - Casey's being the fiercer of the two. That couldn't be good. Good thing Marti agreed to move a little further so she wouldn't get into too much trouble.

Cased turned to the lady and started with her apology, "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry. See, I'm with them. They're my family and -"

"Then tell your husband and your daughter to be careful next time. But someone has to pay for the breakage."

The lady hastily walked back towards the counter before either one of them could say anything regarding the accident and/or the 'husband-daughter' thing. She called her helper and pointed him to the area where the broken pieces still cover the floor. Casey gave Derek the _what-the-heck-did-you-do_ look and he responded with his _shh-just-calm-down _expression. They seemed to be too engrossed in their mishap to continue contemplating about this _weirdness_ that the lady just told them.

Seemed to. But not really.

"No, I meant.." Casey followed her to start her long defense, but she was greeted by her 'poker face' so she quickly dismissed the thought. "I'll pay for it."

"57.20," she replied monotonously.

"No, I will," A familiar voice mentioned from behind her, pulling out a fifty and a ten dollar bill from his wallet. "Like you have enough money to pay for this."

Derek, the owner of this voice, was beyond relieved to hear that he wouldn't have to go file for bankruptcy before he reaches the age of 20 in case he had to pay $1000 or more for that damn figurine. It wasn't that he wouldn't be half-broke after paying the amount, but at least it wouldn't be necessary to work at Smelly Nelly's for the rest of his life or wait for his hockey career to flourish before he could pay for the damage. He was a little more relaxed and proud of himself since it definitely looked like he was about to exit the store alive, any minute now. He probably would never set foot in any Swarovski store, ever again.

But not Casey, no. Her face still bore traces of annoyance and worry. And she was determined to let the reason of her annoyance know.

So, the verbal battle began, starting from 'you were not supposed to be here' up until 'you babysit like an uptight battalion commander of the land of mindless zombies'. It would have went on and on if not for the intervention – read: annoyed clearing of throats – of some people impatiently waiting in line to pay.

"You know, for a young couple, you fight like old ones," the lady eyed them both and shook her head as she motioned for Derek to hand her the bills. He immediately gave them to her.

This time, Casey cracked. "We are not a couple!"

"You're getting a divorce at this age?" She inquired in both surprise and curiosity while handing Derek his change.

"Yes, and I'm waiting for her to move out of my house," he took the change and smirked at the lady, much to Casey's surprise. "She's a big pain in the _you-know-what,_" he continued, leaning against the cashier desk and lowering his voice as he spoke, then winked after. The lady merely shook her head and mechanically thanked them for coming.

"If you don't shut your big mouth, I will show you how much pain in the _you-know-what_ I can really be!"

"I'd like to see you try."

"Hey, hey, hey. Knock it out. I don't want to have you get arrested for public nuisance or disorderly conduct," the lady sternly cautioned them, making them cease from laying hands or 'claws' on each other.

"I'm sorry, Miss.." Derek tilted his head forward and squinted his eyes to read her name tag. "..Sarah. My wife here is very moody lately. I'm beginning to think our little girl over there will soon have a playmate."

"I am _not_ pregnant, you dolt!" Casey raised her hand at shoulder level and curled it into a fist, ready to hit her stepbrother whose own hands were lifted to the side for protection, eyes slightly wincing in anticipation of her punch.

Sarah raised her eyebrow and clenched her jaws as she continued to bear witness to the brewing fight between the two, clearing her throat in an attempt to stop them. The two immediately pulled themselves together, Casey apologizing right after. Derek signaled Marti to come up front.

"Work it out, you two. Poor little girl over here needs two parents to love her," Sarah quickly added, giving Derek a half-smile.

"No, see –" Casey started, but her mind went blank and words disappeared from her system when she felt Derek's hand clasping her waist. It was lightning quick, but she felt like time stopped when that surge of electrical impulses ran from the source to the rest of her body. She trembled under his touch. She couldn't breathe. She wanted to move away but he pulled her even closer to his side, letting his palm rest on her stomach. _Get it off, get it off, get if off! _It wasn't like she wasn't used to him pulling her close, but usually he does it by the shoulder. This, this is different. She stared at him with the most incredulous look in her eyes, searching, wondering, but he only gave her a smirk and nothing else. Oh, wait.. no, nothing. _But.. _She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out of her mouth._  
_

"Here's a calling card for our marriage counselor. She's really good, give her a call," Sarah handed Derek a small card.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to give her a call once she starts throwing knives at me," he took it from her hand, sporting a smirk across his lips. His hand left Casey's waist, which gave her the opportunity to breathe a little better, only to lose it again once his palm rested on hers and his fingers laced with hers. She tried to pull her hand away but his grip was too strong, so seeing as it wasn't going anywhere, she tried to relax.

Well, that was some epic relaxing failure.

* * *

"Derek, what is this game you're trying to play? Have you lost your mind?"

Casey wiggled her hand to free herself from Derek's grasp. They were already a few shops away from the dreaded crime scene, but his hold on her hadn't loosen up until she finally forced it off. At last, she got the air that she had been desperately requesting in her screamed-out brain. It wasn't as great as she had hoped for since she was still in the same breathing space as Derek, but as long as they were already a few rulers away from each other, that was a great start.

"Look who's talking. Weren't you the one who didn't bother explaining what we really are in the first place?" Derek casually placed his free hand in his pocket, as his little sister still held the other.

"What?" Casey took a few seconds to figure out what he was saying before exclaiming, "I just wanted to get out of the place as soon as possible before you knock over every single thing in the store!"

Marti suddenly released her hands from Derek's hold, face glowing with embarrassment and guilt. She kept her head low and refused to walk any further. Derek's eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head and icily stared at Casey, and right there and then, she realized that it wasn't Derek who accidentally broke the Swarovski figurine, it was Marti. He was protecting his little sister from getting into big trouble. Casey bit her lower lip and weakly smiled at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marti. I didn't mean to say that," she ran her fingers across Marti's hair and caressed her cheek. Her features lightened up as she smiled at her older stepsister.

"Why so quiet, Smarti?" Derek asked since he noticed that she hadn't said a word yet since the incident at the Swarovski store.

"I'm hungry," Marti replied quickly, staring her puppy-dog eyes at him.

Derek smirked at his sister as he commended her Venturi-ness - they love their stomachs, that's for sure. Although, it was interesting that she wasn't being vocal about it. Either she was mature enough not to whine or the accident really scared her that much. He scanned the area for a decent place to eat at. And he found a good one with a _good_ deal.

"Oh, look, a family discount for lunch. Let's go!" He exclaimed, once again grabbing Casey by the hand.

"Der-ek! Stop dragging me around!" Casey tugged back, stopping him on his track. Derek turned around to face her, eyebrows raised.

"Unless you want to pay for food, you'll shut up now and just follow my lead," He held out his hand in front of her and waited for a response.

She stiffened as she thought of how much money she currently had in her wallet. She didn't ask her mom for extra shopping money because.. well, she wasn't planning on having a good time with Derek at the mall. And since he was the original babysitter of the day, George gave him the food allowance for the afternoon. She would be able to pay for the three of them if they went to a fastfood restaurant, but that's gross - for her. _Eww, have you seen the food they're serving? They're not even healthy. I am not eating processed junk! And I've promised myself that I'm eating healthy this summer. _She would barely be able to buy food for her and Marti if they go to this place. _Well, Derek could starve to death.__ Who cares?_ _  
_

Sighing heavily, she hesitantly placed her hand on his palm. Of course, she cared.

Derek clasped his fingers around Casey's hand as he lowered it to his side. She never looked back at him, in fear that he would see her blushing so hard. Marti only giggled at the sight of the two holding hands again as they entered the place.

"Table for three."

* * *

"Smerek.." Marti called out to her brother sitting beside her, busy chewing on food. Casey had just excused herself to go to the washroom, leaving the two behind in their booth.

"Hmm?" Derek mumbled over a mouthful of meat.

"Why do you want to hold hands with Casey?"

His jaws stopped chomping on his lunch when he heard her question. _Uh. _He gave himself time - probably more than what was necessary - to chew and gulp his mouth's content (secretly wishing he could chew forever and avoid her interrogation) before answering.

"Uh, I don't want to. We just needed to save money."

"Right," she nodded. "Well, why were you holding her waist when we were at the store?"

_Oh, no. Here we go. _Again, questions that catch him off-guard. _What is up with this week? _Actually, he didn't really mind being asked questions that would make him uneasy for a few seconds - like, 'where did you go last night?' or 'have you been stealing money from Edwin?' - because it was easy to get out of these things. But Casey-related inquiries? _While I'm eating?_

"Don't want her to get lost. Nora's gonna kill me," he replied in defense, resuming his food-stuffing to hide his discomfort.

"She's a big girl, Smerek. She could take care of herself."

"No, see, it's not just that," he started, wiggling his finger to the side. "She's klutzy. She could easily trip, break everything there, and hurt herself. Then we'd have to take her to the hospital. On top of that, we'll be broke until the next lifetime. That's too much of an inconvenience. And Casey, on her own, is enough bother for the whole family. I'm just saving the 'rents' butts."

Marti just kept staring at him the whole time he was blabbing animatedly about Casey's inconvenient existence, as if trying to read something in his face. He averted his eyes from her inquisitive look and tried to keep his expression blank and neutral. He thought that she was going to ask something else, but she went back to her food and said nothing, leading him to believe that she thought of everything as a joke - _which is true! - _and decided not to question any further.

"Smerek.."

Derek stopped chewing again. "Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell the lady you weren't Casey's husband and I wasn't your daughter? I was listening, you know."

"She 'forgot' first. I don't have a fault there," he immediately rebutted.

Marti squinted her eyes and tightened her lips, obviously not satisfied with his answer. Derek merely shrugged as he took a sip from his drink, inwardly hoping that it would be the last of her questions. There was nothing else left to ask anyway. She had covered every _weird_ thing that happened today. He relaxed a bit and anticipated their exit from the restaurant, once the _princess_ comes back and _Sherlock Holmes _finishes her food. Then they would forget this had ever happened.

"Smerek.."

Derek breathed heavily before turning his head to give his sister a forced smile.

"Yes, _Smarti_?"

"Do you like Casey?"

Derek's eyes widened and his nostrils flared as the question started getting more and more imprinted in his eardrums, clouding his mind. He quickly looked away from his sister, wishing that she hadn't seen his reaction, or if she had, she'd think that it was because of outrage and disgust. At least he's glad that that he just finished gulping his food and there was nothing left on the plate to contribute to that ever growing vomit that might exit his system any minute now. Maybe it's a good time to excuse himself and go to the washroom, but he didn't want to leave his sister alone. _Where the heck is Casey?_

"Wh.. where are you getting all these questions?"

"You like her, don't you? You can tell me. I will guard your secret with my life," she replied, beaming at him.

Derek shook his head and nervously chuckled. "Go finish your food now. She's gonna come soon."

"Answer me first. If you don't answer me, I'll tell Dad you're hiding a dead rat under your bed."

"I am not!"

"Answer.."

Rolling his eyes and sighing in defeat, Derek stared down and contemplated whether he'd be honest with his little sister or not. He didn't know how to start or what to say. Okay, so of course he should. After all, the question only begged for either of the two possible answers – yes or no. He wasn't really scared of her threat to tell on him and his dead rat. He threw that out a long time ago, but since she had been scarred for life the moment that she saw it, she couldn't let go of the subject. He just wanted to let it out. Say something. He had never ever said anything to anybody else, not even his best friend, Sam. Not that he would tell him, no. No, that couldn't be right. He was pretty sure it was against the Male Code to do that. You know, the 'don't date your best friend's ex' or 'don't date your best friend's ex, who's also your stepsister' section. Stupid Male Code, backfiring on him.

"Smerek, answer.."

Derek quickly glanced at her. What was he gonna do? Was it even right? _I don't know._ What does it mean when you couldn't get someone out of your mind, when you constantly get pulled into a trance where she was all that you could see and all that you wanted to reach out to, or when you couldn't help but go out of your way to do things you'd normally be killed first before you'd do it? That no matter how hard you try to mask it with your 'jerk-ness', you just couldn't hide that fact that you get hurt when she gets hurt, you get affected when she cries? Yeah, well. _But it's not right! Not right. Not right. Not right._

"Smerek!"_  
_

He couldn't say a word. Not without feeling the need to puke. _What now?_

He took out his phone from his pocket and went to the Notes app. There he typed the answer to her question.

**YES**

Marti shrieked when she read the three-letter word, causing everyone in the restaurant to stare at them in confusion, curious to know what was going on.

"Ooh, I knew it! You lik-!"

"Shh!"

"Right," Marti nodded and glided her thumb and index finger across her lips like closing a zipper. "Not a word."

Derek, whose face was still slightly flushing, held out his right pinky finger. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear," Marti beamed at him, hooking her own pinky finger onto his.

They were in the middle of entwining their little fingers when Casey walked back into their booth. Derek hastily unhooked his finger and grabbed his phone lying on the table to delete the note. He avoided her eyes for the rest of their stay at that place, making her wonder what went on while she was gone. And Marti was thoroughly enjoying this.

* * *

"Hi, Casey."

Casey turned her head to the direction of the voice to see who had just greeted her. Her face lightened up when she recognized who it was.

"Hey, Matthew. What are you doing here?" She beamed widely and, in fact, a little too flirtatiously. Derek had to scoff and roll his eyes at her actions.

"I just bought some clothes. How about you?" Matthew responded, briefly lifting his hand holding a couple of plastic bags.

She was about to respond when he started asking again. "Is.. he your boyfriend?"

"No!" She immediately blurted out at the same time as Derek's "No."

"Yes!" The three older teens quickly looked down, all of their foreheads creasing. _Uh-oh._

"Marti.." Derek hushed her with wide eyes._  
_

"Who are you and why are you talking to Casey?" Marti continued, ignoring his brother's glare threats.

"I'm.. her friend," Matthew responded, feeling a little queasy.

"Are you going to ask her out on a date? Casey's not allowed to go on dates anymore. This is her financey," she raised her eyebrows at him as she pointed to her brother.

Derek laughed and corrected her, "Fiancé."

Casey, whose mouth suddenly fell open upon hearing this, elbowed him hard, making him wince as he clutch his side.

"You're getting married? You've never.." Matthew asked, still confused.

"Oh, no, no! I can explain.." Casey shook her head rapidly, waving her hand in the air.

Marti unexpectedly grabbed both Derek's and Casey's hands and forced them together. Seeing as this was quite an amusing scenario, he tightened his grasp on her hand so that she wouldn't be able to break free. She was rendered speechless as her mind got flooded with a thousand thoughts. She couldn't help but feel like a helpless victim in the _evil duo_'s current shenanigan. And her body was betraying her. Only her eyes spoke, telling Matthew to rescue her. Too bad, Matthew didn't have Derek's Casey-smarts.

"No, she can't. And it is what you think it is." Marti interrupted her, pointing to the two holding hands. "Plus, you look like Tru-scum. I don't trust you."

"Marti?" Casey said as she feebly tried to wiggle out of Derek's grip, but she couldn't fight the strength of his hold. "No, no. I'll explain."

"Uh, I better be going. See you later, Casey," said Matthew, still staring at their hands joined together. "Nice to meet you.. Casey's fiancé and.. little girl."

Derek simply smirked at him in response.

"Call me later?" Casey sighed as she saw his back facing her already as he carried on pacing away.

Then as if every single offense Derek every made had dawned on her, her features started to darken as she turned to face the annoying _zit that won't pop, rash that won't heal, nose that won't stop running_. She breathed heavily as she curled her hand into a fist beside her and approached him slowly, eyes shooting invisible daggers at his direction. Derek widened his eyes and slowly backed off, glancing from side to side as he noticed that more and more mall-goers were starting to watch the scene.

"You, Venturis, are seriously -" she started, teeth gnashing in the process.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's watch a movie!" He announced before she could even finish what she wanted to say. He quickly took both of the girls' hands and led them to the escalator.

* * *

"I want to watch Eclipse," Casey huffed. She still hadn't forgotten about what happened earlier. She had been wearing her sulking expression from the escalator to the Silvercity lobby entrance, thinking about the wasted opportunity to be asked to a date _again_ by a cute guy. Not that she was expecting him to ask her at that point in time, but.. _ugh_.

"Who said your opinion matters here?" Derek responded.

"We will watch Eclipse or we won't watch at all," she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. He just cast a sneer at her.

"What's Eclipse?" Marti asked, breaking their intense eye battle.

"This.. is Eclipse, Marti," Casey pointed at the huge cutout display of Eclipse actors.

"Oh! He looks cute. I want to see this," the little kid stared at the picture of a shirtless Taylor Lautner, playing the character Jacob Black.

Derek rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his sister's shoulders, twisting her to face him.

"No, Smarti, the three of us will watch Inception. It's a cooler movie, I promise."

Casey snorted at him and touched Marti's arms, causing her to look at her stepsister's direction.

"No, we'll watch Eclipse. It has werewolves and vampires with really cool powers."

"Ooh.." Marti's eyes twinkled at the mention of 'cool powers'.

"Stop brainwashing my sister, _Twi-hard_," Derek folded his arms across his chest and scrunched his eyebrows. "People just watch this movie to see Lautner's.. not-even-that-great body. Please."

"You're just jealous of his six pack," Casey replied, smirking at him and crossing her own arms.

"Uh, I have my own."

"What's a six pack?" Marti looked up to question her brother.

"Oh, you know, those little buns on the tummy," he responded, patting his abdomen.

He caught Casey looking at the area he had patted, which she ceased doing as soon as she realized how inappropriate that was. She proceeded staring back at him, hoping she'd melt his pride with her eyes. But, _bad idea_ since he gazed deeper and even rolled his tongue along his inner cheek, as if taunting and teasing her, making her cheeks flush and her eyes look somewhere else.

"I want one! Is it yummy?" Marti excitedly exclaimed.

"You can't ea – " Casey started.

"Ask Casey," Derek cut her off, still keeping that intent gaze at her.

Marti turned to Casey and asked. "Have you ever eaten a six pack before?"

"N – " Casey began, shaking her head.

"Yeah, in fact, she has eaten mine before.. in her 'nightmares'. She wrote about it in her diary," Derek cut her off again.

"What? I do not..!" Casey gave him a menacing look in return. _So infuriating! Wait, what diary..  
_

".. care. So, let's watch Inception," He interrupted for the third time, leaving her gaping and very much flushed from both anger and embarrassment.

"Eclipse!" The two girls shouted synchronously. Derek groaned as he gets dragged to the ticket booth.

* * *

It was already an hour past their movie-watching and Derek was sitting on one of the benches with sleeping Marti's head resting on his lap. The two eldest decided to part ways for a bit, then meet back up after an hour or so. Derek took Marti and Casey strolled around alone. At least, that gave them time away from each other. Not that they needed this break to stop themselves from pushing daggers at each other's backs. No, not really. In fact, overall, the day went okay. Sure they were still fighting, that had always been a recurring theme in this life of theirs, but they actually had.. fun. They laughed, they enjoyed each other's presence, and they had a good time with Marti around. It wasn't such a _doomsday_ kinda hangout after all.

Feeling kind of bored, he decided to tweet her.

| _DerekVenturi: Where are you?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Victoria's Secret buying.. you-know-what._

_| DerekVenturi: Yeah, very funny. Where are you and what are you doing?_

_| LifeWithCasey: I'm just at Coles, searching for "Love in the Time of Cholera". _

_| DerekVenturi: Try the horror section. Are you gonna take long? Marti's already asleep on my lap. I kinda want to go home now._

_| LifeWithCasey: Funny, Derek. Oh, okay. Five more minutes, I promise. Are you sitting somewhere? I guess I'll meet you in the parking lot._

_| DerekVenturi: No, it's fine. I'll just carry her and meet you there. Make it quick, okay?_

_| LifeWithCasey: Alright._

It took Casey shorter than five minutes to find and purchase the book, so she decided to wait for the two near the store entrance. To keep herself busy, she took the book out of the bag and started reading the first few pages.

Minutes later, Casey saw Derek walking towards her, carrying his sleeping little sister and her new stuffed bunny. He looked very fatherly and she couldn't help but stare at him in awe. It was so adorable to watch. He always did have a way with children. She would probably never surpass his natural charm when it came to dealing with kids. Especially Marti, he was a great big brother to her. He might not always be the perfect role model, but regardless, he was genuinely caring and she could tell that he loved her so much.

Her mind flashed back to the incident at the Swarovski store. She would have never guessed that it was Marti who accidentally dropped the precious crystal and broke it, and she was sure that Derek never had the intention of revealing it even to her until she unintentionally insinuated that the kid would break every single display in the store had they not left the place. She felt guilty that she didn't catch on right away, but at least her apology got accepted. And Derek.. he'd rather be the one to take the blame for it. _Who said chivalry is dead?_

Casey smiled to herself as her mind continued to dwell in the past, eyes fixated forward in oblivion of her surroundings.

"Earth to Casey."

"Huh?" She shook her head and blinked quickly.

Derek imitated her zoned-out face and smirked at her. Casey gave him a light slap on his arm, then rolled her eyes and smiled at him.

"Done?"

Casey nodded and lifted the book she's carrying. "Got the book."

"See, I told you. When in doubt, always check the Horror section."

"By Horror, you mean _Romance_." Casey sported her own smirk.

"Yeah, _Horror_."

Casey responded with an eye roll. She took the stuffed toy from his hand so he'd be able to carry Marti easier. She was about to start on her heels when she felt his free hand gliding against her own on her side, parting her fingers to entwine his with them.

"Stay with me. I don't want to lose you."

Casey's heart skipped a beat or two. She wanted to melt right there and then. Of course, he could've meant something else, but why was her heart beating faster than a bullet train? Thousands of questions plagued her mind and possibly impaired her from moving altogether since she wasn't able to move right away when Derek started walking towards the exit. She had to be tugged a couple times before her spaced out, freaked out, _OMG-ed_ out self responded to his gentle nudging.

She wanted to know what was going on. But, whatever _this_ was, it would have to wait until later.

* * *

**A/N:** How was it? Eek, haha. The only thing that I took from the original story is the idea of the cinema scene. In the actual plot, Derek and Marti argued whether to watch Inception or Eclipse and Derek and Casey were talking about Jacob Black's "six pack" on Twitter, similar to what I had there but a LOT more flirty because there was something else that happened before (which I will tackle in the next chapter). Since they're not actually together-_ish_ yet, I figured this is more appropriate. So, for those who are familiar with the Twitter Dasey plot, you might recognize some stuff but the timeline is a bit mixed up.

Also, there is no Victoria's Secret in Masonville Place, only La Senza. So, let's just pretend there is one since that's what Derek said in the last chapter. :)

Anyway, finally Derek admitted it. Yay.

Please review if you have time! I enjoyed writing this chapter even though it took me a while to finish it because it's so long. And I can't bring myself to omit some parts.


	9. Chapter 9: The Shark and the Fisherman

**A/N:** I. AM. SO. INCREDIBLY. SORRY! This next chapter is long (as in LONG) overdue. I have been busy with personal commitments so I didn't have the time to do this. And also, I haven't really been feeling the "writing" mood, until now. Sometimes, still in spurts. I just want to take this time to thank all of my past readers and subscribers (and people who have put this in their favorites). Hopefully this doesn't disappoint. Forgive me, it's been a long time! :)

P.S. This is still dedicated to DerekVenturi and LifeWithCasey on Twitter! I haven't seen them tweet in a long time. Although, I guess because I don't go on my Twitter account that much, too. Haha.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LwD or any of the TMs and registered TMs here.

* * *

**Chapter 9: The Shark and the Fisherman**

"Hey, handsome."

"Hey, yourself."

Casey couldn't see much of what was going on outside. She was already seated and all buckled up in front, Marti lying in the back seat, but Derek was still outside talking to someone. She couldn't exactly make out who the person was but there were two definite traits that caught her eye - she's a girl, and she's blonde. There was something in her that wanted to draw a little closer to the driver's seat so that she could have a better look or a better hearing of the ongoing conversation, but she still succeeded in restraining herself. The couple were too far back on the other side that she knew it would be impossible to catch even a syllable of their words even if her ears were already glued to the driver's window. She chose to use the mirrors instead to follow their movements closely with her eyes. Not that she was stalking, or anything. _Of course, I wasn't! Just... curious. _For a moment, she thought that the day would end pleasantly, but with what was currently happening, she realized that she might have concluded too soon. With a defeated sigh, she let her head land on the headrest, but without taking an eye off of the two._  
_

The parking lot lights were too dim to aid in her attempt to lip read. _Why couldn't they form their words with their lips properly so I could understand? _She was beginning to get irritated. They were taking a little too long and she wanted to go home before dinner; at this rate, they wouldn't be back until midnight. But then of course, she just wasn't comfortable in seeing his skirt-chasing antics in person. But she couldn't help but spy. Or be curious. She wanted to step outside and remind him that there's a stepsister and a sister waiting for him in the car. Maybe his _little brain in his big head_ disappeared altogether and he forgot the existence of the world. _Why don't they just rent a space shuttle, zoom to the moon, and have a dinner date? Then maybe they would do us, earthlings, a favor and we'll finally have world peace! _She continued to shift in her seat, bending her back a little in order to have a better look at the driver's side mirror. Judging from what she was seeing, they were having a good time - Derek was smiling while she went on with her animated blabbering, occasionally giving him a gentle hit on his arm. Rolling her eyes, Casey did a mock imitation of her actions and then stuck out her tongue in disgust.

_'Hey, handsome.' Psh, who starts a conversation like that? _However, her little mocking stopped as her mind flashed back to when she tried to imitate Derek's _charming_ service during her working days at the Smelly Nellie's. She found herself _facepalming_ and groaning after humiliation crept back in in remembrance of saying something similar - not to a guy, but to a lady. She was only brought back to reality when she caught a glimpse of the girl giving Derek a kiss on his cheek, and he was thoroughly enjoying it! _Pig._ She rolled her eyes (for the nth time) and pursed her lips, as the cause of her displeasure finally went on his way back to the car.

"Who was that?" Casey immediately exclaimed before Derek could even land his behind on his seat. He was put in an awkward position, with his one feet firmly set on the car floor mat, and the other still outside waiting to be let in.

"You know, there is a right time for everything. Like waiting for me to settle in before talking to me and asking me questions?" He mentioned after finally sitting comfortably, facing her, head tilted slightly to the right and eyebrows raised. She couldn't respond with anything but a roll of eyes, a flushed cheek, and a head twist towards the right side window so that he wouldn't notice. The last thing she ever needed was to be embarrassed for her being embarrassed.

Seeing as she wouldn't give a sassy retort, he merely shrugged and started the ignition, "Don't know. I recognize her from somewhere, probably a Smelly Nellie's patron."

She quickly turned her entire upper body to face him, making him cover his face with his right hand for defense, seeing as she looked like _Xena the Warrior Princess_ ready to pound her to the next millennium, "You let random bimbos give you a peck on your cheek even without knowing their names first?"

The words came out loudly enough that the little girl in the backseat began to move. Being aware of this, it was Derek's turn to give her the glare, which made her huff and focus her eyes on the front window before mouthing an apology. Although, instead of dismissing the situation quickly, he continued staring at her, not in a _pushing dagger_ kind of way, but as one who thoroughly inspects and peruses. A smirk formed across his lips as he pulled out of the stall, all the while slightly eyeing her with his periphery.

"Well, Ms. Peepy McPeeperson, it's all in a day's work. And just to clarify, she's not a random bimbo, she's a blonde bombshell. Note the difference."

He freed his right hand from the wheel and positioned it in front of Casey's face, "Bimbo, eh. Bombshell, yeah." Doing a thumbs down and a thumbs up to demonstrate, respectively.

She fended off his hand from her line of vision before diverting her gaze to the side of the road and resting her head on the window beside her.

"And I thought you would be different by now. I guess, once a cad, always a cad."

Casey spoke with much repulsion and disgust that it made the atmosphere inside the vehicle gloomy and tense. She was so annoyed, hurt, confused, all-mixed-up that these feelings decided to wrap themselves up in a tight bunch of words and shoot to kill. Although, she was half expecting him to give a smart back talk, her anger and pride kept her mum and almost indifferent. He did not respond. A part of her wanted to be alarmed, but it wasn't enough to care at the moment. She failed to notice the look of sadness creeping across Derek's face since her own glum eyes stayed fixed somewhere else away from him.

* * *

As tense as the earlier ride to the mall had been, the ride home was not very different. Although, it wasn't the kind that one would expect between the two older stepsiblings. It was completely quiet and soundless, as if the words were no more, and there was nothing left to describe their declaration of the impossibility of their co-existence. No remarks, no retorts, no back talks, no words. It was a half hour drive that had lasted without arguing over menial things such as speed or choice of music. Granted that over the course of time and the inevitability of his influence, Casey was becoming somehow more tolerant of the latter, normally, she always had something to say and Derek always had something to grumble about. Tonight was different, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant kind of different. It was just plain off. He was lightly tapping on the wheel as he drove, obviously in a pensive state, while she leaned against the window beside her – confused, internally agitated, mind roaming elsewhere. If one should be staring from the outside, one could be fooled by this seemingly normal, peaceful trance. However, the only genuinely peaceful sight to behold is Marti sleeping in the backseat.

He didn't even eat dinner. No, Derek proceeded upstairs after placing down Sleeping Marti on the couch. Two words – 'Not hungry' – and he had disappeared almost in an instant into his room. He had received a couple of 'huh's', 'what's', and pairs of eyes following his footsteps, but no one took it rather gravely and again, he was left to his own devices. No one, except Casey. She hardly finished her food, making it seem almost untouched. The anger that she felt earlier that afternoon had completely faded away and the void was replaced by worry - worry mixed with confusion, topped off with a thousand questions, and a tinge of guilt. Why guilt? It wasn't like what she said wasn't true, right? He deserved to be put in place. He deserved to be smacked with the reality of his nature. _He deserved every pain and hurt for what he was doing to me!_ Yes! No. She didn't feel any satisfaction for what she had done. _But what did I do? _The odd sensation coming from her fingers intertwined with the 'knotting' in her stomach, leaving her unable to take on another bite. _I just said what needed to be said._

"Not hungry", she mirrored Derek's words. But these same words did not receive the same lack of sentiment; in fact, the rest of the occupants of the table looked at each other and wondered. But before they could interrogate her, she took off and went dashing upstairs.

She had no time for inquiries. Not that she would have the ability to coherently form explanations, granted that she, herself, was finding everything extremely confusing. Her mind wandered back to when they were enjoying their time at the mall, and how it was not the _doomsday_ that she had expected. She recalled every detail, every place they had ever set foot on - the Swarovski store, the restaurant, the cinema. The bookstore, how Marti looked so secure yet gently held in the arms of Derek, and how they exited the mall together, hands clasped. Then there it was again, that heartbeat that seemed to come from her palms, creating waves rushing to her fingertips and swooshing back fast into her system until they reach her heart. She gulped at the thought of them appearing like a family and reached out to feel the loud beating above her chest as she remembered him and how he stopped her from speaking with Matthew. _Matthew._ But what about that girl? And how he seemed to parade the _bimbo's _features in her face? The once peaceful hold she had on her shirt was replaced with a tight grasp as the fabric gathered under her fist. Were her emotions just toying with her? Was she letting him toy with her emotions? Was she toying with her emotions? Didn't he imply that he only saw her as a sister? Stepsister? But what about the hints? Was she reading the hints right? Were there any hints at all? How could he hit on someone in her presence? _Ugh! I don't understand!_ She brought both her hands to the side of her head, feeling a headache coming from all the thinking. It was a surprise that she hadn't gone completely mental by now, but she's almost on the verge of it.

And then she found herself there once again, in front of his door. It should've looked quite common to her right now. If anything, it should induce annoyance and comfort – the second because it is the second greatest divider between her and the dreaded place, first being the wall in the middle of their rooms; and the first, because it is also the portal to the underworld – that is Derek's haven. But tonight, it was a different sight; not that it changed, but it's just different. And there was no first or second, only one – fear. Fear of being brought back to the start where she should've been all along, which could've been a good thing; however, her unrequited feelings would mock her forever. But it wouldn't stop her. She couldn't back out now. Either she would die from being eternally confused, or she would die from a heartbreak - it didn't matter anymore, same ending. Standing in front of his door, feeling slightly light-headed, she decided she would proceed. She was going to settle this once and for all.

* * *

He was not even thinking about it. Here he was, Derek, King of the Racing Track, running 3672819273 plus some gazillion mph and staying ahead of his game - _owning it_, as he would say - and there was no one to stop him. He was gripping the wheel as tight as he could, eyes focused on the monitor, grinning like a maniac, and completely oblivious of anything that had nothing to do with the race. The final lap was well within reach, the last struggle of the battle, and he was determined to take the prize, even if the universe collapsed on him tonight.

"Eat my winning dirt, losers!"

His diabolical laughter infiltrated the entire room, bouncing off the walls, and jumping back into his ears to much of his pleasure. The sounds coming off from the headphones were not as loud as he usually keeps it, but it was almost as if he were right there in the flesh on the track, hearing the reverberating zooming of his engine, feeling and mocking the friction of the road that he declared wouldn't stop him, and basking in the cheering of the crowd whom he would be gracing with his presence once he finished feeding his opponents their only food for the day.

He could almost hear it, the screams, the cheers; he could see the "Venturi is #1" signs near the finish line. _The finish line._ The sweetest place in all of solar system at this moment in time. And it's all for him, _all for him!_ The other cars were nowhere in sight, not even close to where he currently was up at front. The faded and blurry lines were coming into focus and he could see his destiny, he could see the bold white line and the beautifully squared black and white tiles of paint right next to it. This was it, the moment of truth. Sweet, sweet victory within reach!

_Almost._

_Closer._

It was becoming more evident. The faces were starting to become clearer; he could see a very attractive lady waiting for him at the very end that especially caught his attention._  
_

_Almost there._

Someone slim, blonde - no, brunette - carrying a sign - no, a mallet - no, a pitchfork?

_Yes. Yes!_

"Ahhhhhh!"

Derek yelled his lungs out in horror as he jolted, hit his knee under the table, and almost sent the entire computer system crashing on the floor when Casey suddenly swung the door open. Luckily, he got a hold of the monitor and the racing wheel and prevented them from falling. He quickly set them straight on the desk, caressed the 'poor things', and shot a menacing glare at the culprit. Although, he wasn't exactly sure what she was a culprit of. Nevertheless, she almost took his computer's life!

"What gives? You just cost me a gold trophy and a place at the winner's circle!"

But there was no reply from the other end of the conversation line, not even a single word from the trespasser. Normally, this would make him tick and he would force the intruder out of his lair with all the strength he had - expect for Marti, and maybe his dad, or his mom, or Nora, or Lizzie (he doesn't need to, she would pretty much walk out on her own). But this was strangely making him squirm. There was something in her aura that was telling him that the next few minutes of his life wouldn't be normal. Maybe this was the best time to write a will. _If I die, I will leave a good portion of my belongings to Marti, my leather jacket to Edwin, my dirty socks to Nora, my collection of -_

He shook his head to bring him back to reality; she was still standing there, almost ghost-like, probably as pale as he was at that moment. Both of their chests heaved heavily, almost synchronously. He was slightly confused as to what was going on with her, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask her directly. His wincing and obvious discomfort would have been an amusing sight for Casey, however, she showed no sign of gratification, not even a hint of a smile or a sly smirk. She just continued to stare at him intently.

"I think I have a door there somewhere. Would you like to knock?"

Derek spoke, keeping his eyes down and pretending to be busy fixing the mess he created, secretly hoping that his sarcasm would revert her to her usual self, that she would give him her dose of back talks and all would be well in the world. Instead, he was greeted with yet another minute of silence. Long, excruciating moment of silence. Although he dared not meet her gaze, he could feel it piercing through his skin. No matter how hard he stared at the monitor of his computer, he could not ignore the tension that was permeating throughout the entire room and making him shrink, as if the walls were closing in on him and squeezing the lungs out of his system. The awkwardness was only somewhat broken when Casey started to move from her spot, closer towards his desk, after shutting the door behind her. And then, the silence continued.

"What do you want?" He broke the icy stillness with his deep voice, almost croaking due to his hesitation to utter another sentence.

"What are you doing?" Casey responded immediately, raising her voice almost right after he mouthed the last word.

"Uh," his heart pounded. How could a simple question make his mind pitch-black? Not that he had any anymore, since it probably left his system together with his lungs.

"... playing... video games?" He continued hesitantly.

"I am not in the mood for jokes, Venturi."

"Who says I'm joking? I really am pla-"

"Derek!" Casey shrieked in frustration.

"What? You just barged into my room and asked me what I was doing. I gave you an answer," he said in a matter-of-factly kind of tone.

Now, this was giving him slight comfort – they're back to bickering and he knew how to handle this game. He took a seat and assumed his former place in front of the computer. Grabbing his headphones from the desk and placing it snugly on his head to cover his ears, he met her eyes and gave her a sly, half-smile.

"Now, what else do you want me to do for you, _your highness_?"

"Are you really this incredibly dense?" She retorted, clearly starting to get frustrated. Hurriedly, she strode closer and yanked the hearing device from his head.

"Hey!" Derek rubbed his ears which throbbed a little from the friction that the sudden removal had caused. "Okay, you know what, come back later when you make more sense and become less cryptic. Or better yet, _never_."

Casey felt as if she was being seeped of all her strength. She had never thought that she would be in a situation like this. How could she be full of hatred yet full of caring for him at the same time? And yet, that was exactly the problem. She was too full, and she had maxed her capacity out. She leaned herself against the table, wondering if she should just cry it all out then and there, not caring if anyone would see her – not even caring if Derek would see her. Yet, no tears, no tears coming out from her ducts at all. Had she been all cried out?

Silence was her way of gathering her thoughts, weighing her feelings, and hopefully getting him to speak something, something that would make her understand their situation. But what did she expect from Derek? It didn't even seem like it was bothering him the way it had been affecting her. And here she thought that he was actually upset about something her words had slapped unto his face earlier. How many times had she been wrong today? Oh yeah, maybe too many times that she would have enough _wrongs_ to last her a lifetime.

"Well, this has been sufficiently awkward for tonight. Thank you for dropping by," he proceeded to avert his stare to the monitor as his hands found his keyboard, then started pressing buttons to type words.

This was exhausting. Bickering could really be exhausting. Fighting could really be very exhausting. And she had no will remaining to keep the quarrel going. Everything inside her wanted to dash to the comfort of the adjacent room, to hopefully get a good enough sleep that could make her forget the same way he had been forgetting everything. That would've been really nice; unfortunately, her body was betraying her sense.

"Derek... just. I need you to tell me..."

She lifted her hand and gently placed it on top of his. He could feel something _whizzing_ along the growth of his skin hair. It was like being given a shock of electricity that rapidly moved from his hands to his spine and to the rest of his body. Suddenly, everything came back. The feeling of her hand against his, the softness of her skin. All these things that he was trying to forget came back in a blink of an eye as her palm rested on his right hand, stopping him from moving it an inch more, stopping _him_ from moving an inch more. Who would've thought that a little touch could make him feel weak? That someone's gentleness could make him feel helpless? Not helpless in a way that Sally made him feel with her nagging, but in a way that, even without force, he could willingly oblige. His heart was pounding hard, his vision slightly blurred as buried thoughts rushed right back from their captivity into their rightful places.

"What are you doing," there was firmness in her voice, as if she weren't merely asking a simple question but commanding an answer; yet there was a sense of tranquility imparted, of assurance that if truth be told, it would lead to something good.

Right there and then, he knew what she was asking about. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Casey hastily removed her hand from his as fast as she had uttered the words.

She looked at him, who was still sitting almost motionlessly with fist curled up atop his keyboard, with such disappointment. Her chest heaved heavily, and she was beginning to pant, as the tension inside her grew stronger. She did not know what to do anymore or what to say. Looking across the other side of the room for just a moment to gather her thoughts, she let her hand run through her hair as she breathed heavily. No, it was not the time to be silent. Nothing would be resolved if she would let her unruly emotions overtake her. It isn't like she had enough energy to handle any argument. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, if he were to be slowly guided to the right path by asking simple but direct questions, he would arrive at an understandable confession. Taking in a deep breath, she turned her head to face him once more.

"Why... why did you stop me from talking to Matthew?"

"That wasn't me. That was Marti."

"Oh, so, you _played along_ because Marti conveniently started it?" She couldn't help but raise her voice in frustration.

"Force of pranking habit."

_Unbelievable!_ That was it. She was getting tired of the back-and-forth nonsense; it was just not worth it anymore. That's what she kept on telling herself. _Why am I subjecting myself to this kind of pain, confusion, and humiliation? I'm done._ That was the final draw, she had finally concluded that Derek was incapable of having feelings and that whatever it was that she thought was there, it was only a figment of her imagination. Derek never cared for her the way she did, the way she _always_ did. It was a hopeless case from the start and she had let herself dive in too deep because of hope, because of _stupid_ hope that maybe it would turn out differently.

_"__A woman's imagination_ is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment." Casey faced away from him and advanced quickly towards the door as she remembered Jane Austen's words. She was right all along; all of these things were just in her mind. She let it consume herself too much. In the end, it really was nothing. Nothing at all. She quickly blinked her eyes to clear up the tears that were gathering and threatening to flow.

Derek stood up swiftly just as he felt Casey turning her back from him and proceeding to leave. He rushed towards the door, reaching it just as she had opened it ajar, and pushed it shut, causing her to step back a little to gain balance as she tried to restore herself from her startled appearance. They remained in that position for a few seconds, gasping for air, with his palm resting firmly against the wooden door to keep her from leaving. And they waited. Waited for someone to speak. But nothing but heavy sighs came from Derek and Casey was too tired to argue. And just as he had begun to open his mouth to finally speak, she directed her attention from his eyes to the floor, failing to acknowledge that he was about to say something.

"C-," he softly started.

"I'm calling Emily. She'd explain everything to Matthew," she blurted, interrupting him unintentionally.

Derek eyebrows scrunched, "What?"

"I'm going out with him again if he asks me."

He could feel his jaws tighten, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, he clearly didn't care. That person's name kept ringing in his ears and banging the insides of his head. It was taking all of his might to stop him from hitting the wall or overturning his desk. And his extra energy to stop him from telling her that.. from telling her _that_. _Just, ugh! _The brewing irritation inside of him made him grunt loudly as he hastily took his hold off of the wooden door, placed both his hands over his head, and paced back and forth.

"Okay, I don't know why you keep on bringing this up! 'Matthew this, Matthew that'! Seriously, what's so great about this guy? What, did you finally find your 'Fish Charming'?" He yelled quite loudly that it alarmed the three people still present downstairs; good thing it wasn't enough to unsettle the 'rents in the basement.

"No. I don't even care about finding him anymore. I'll settle for the tuna if I have to," Casey turned the knob for the second time and opened the door to leave, but he caught on and slammed it shut with his hand once more.

"Why would you go for the tuna if your bait is for a _shark_!"

"Who says my bait is for a shark?"

He stood frozen in his spot at the realization of his implication. He mentally slapped himself for letting his thoughts run as rampantly as his mouth, almost as recklessly as his driving. He could've sworn it was just hypothetical, but then of course, it really wasn't. Now, all he needed to hope for was that she didn't catch on that quickly.

"Maybe because sharks never seem to take the bait, anyway. Maybe the tuna will be less of a picky eater," she added in a faint whisper.

Her words were probably meant to be uttered for her own hearing, but he heard them clearly and understood perfectly. It was like a hundred pins pricking his skin, not in a good way like acupuncture, but they were puncturing him, alright. His anger turned into pain, his eyes mirroring his feelings. He took a large gulp and squinted his eyes as he gathered some courage to speak.

"It's j-"

All of a sudden, they were distracted by a mixture of sound and vibration coming from Casey's pocket. Her cellphone was ringing. She reached inside her pocket and took it out to answer it, but Derek quickly snatched it from her hand and cancelled the call. Amidst her glaring look, he inched a little closer so that he was a hair's breadth away from her.

"Sharks..." he started, feeling his heartbeat quicken by the second, and somehow still unable to set his eyes directly towards hers, "... are afraid to take baits, because... they don't know what would happen. With preys... it's usually a no-brainer."

Casey raised an eyebrow and gave him a sharp look. Was that a confession to being a _skirt-chasing cad_? Not that he was too keen on concealing it. But what does she know? Guys' minds are as complicated as girls'. Especially Derek's. No matter how intelligent she was, it wasn't always enough to read his mind. No amount of A's and A+'s could help her decipher the labyrinth of a mind that is of Derek's.

"Uh... well, you know... chase and eat."

_Yeah, real smooth, D. _Derek huffed and groaned inwardly, breaking his stare from her. This is why he hates _girl _confrontation; it's just not his thing. It isn't something that you can wing, like a test, or avoid, like a plague. I guess you can, but not forever. He looked back and gave her a half smile, but she was obviously not budging or lightening up. Letting out a sigh, he placed his right hand behind his head to rub his nape.

"But baits are a little scary..." he continued, "and they don't have control over the situation. So... sharks... are harder to catch, because they are stubborn and... they fight a lot."

"But maybe the bait is really good and the shark won't know what it's missing out on until it takes that risk," Casey exclaimed while trying to keep composure. "Even though the fisherman may be scared to catch the shark and tired of putting up with it... it will probably be worth it in the end."

"Yeah, but what if the shark... just wants to protect the fisherman, because... when it bites, it hurts. And it's not as harmless as the tuna. And that the shark doesn't want other people to see that the fisherman got a shark bite... which would really hurt. Because sharks are very carnivorous. And they... can't help... but bite. Hard. Painfully."

He looked downward, struggling to find the words to say and somehow unsure if he was even making sense. The battle between two opposing forces continued inside of him, and that even though she was so close, so within reach, he could not get himself to move his hands and touch her without feeling remorseful. Since when did he feel guilty about caressing a woman? Since when did he develop cowardice towards this game? But this was _not_ a game, and this was not about any _ordinary_ woman.

"What if the fisherman doesn't care about being bitten…"

Derek felt sudden warmth on both sides of his cheek as Casey's palms touched his flushed face. He lifted his eyes only to find out that they had met a pair of questioning, assuring, and searching blue eyes. They reminded him of both summer and winter, of the blue skies and icy blue snow, of the tropical seas and the frozen lakes. Two gems as precious as sapphire, safely encased in folds like a scroll, guarded by hundreds of long, black laces that would sometimes glitter whenever she wears that shimmering mascara that she bought at the mall a month ago. _Whoa, what the heck?_ He felt a hard tug in his heart and there and then, he realized he did not like her – he loved her. He loved the way she stares, the way she stands, the way she curves her rosy lips, the way she effortlessly moves when she dances, the way she cooks, the way she laughs, the ways she screams his name when she's mad. He loved her mannerisms and her clumsiness and the way she let out a breath of satisfaction whenever she accomplishes something. He loved the simplest things and the complicated things about her. He loved the ground under her feet, and the air over her head, and everything she touches, and every word she says. He loved all her looks, and all her actions, and her entirely and altogether. _Crap, wasn't that from "Wuthering Heights"?_ That was it, he was in love.

He let his hands rest above hers on his face for a while; he knew Casey could feel him tremble under her touch. Squeezing her soft hands and tightening his grip on them, he closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

"But that would hurt the shark, because... the shark..." he slowly pulled her grasp away from his cheeks and brought them down, still holding them, "cares for the fisherman."

Casey's eyes slowly widened and lit up. Though she couldn't find the strength to smile, his words had given her hope and that was all she needed. It was relieving; it was rendering her speechless. How was she going to react? Was she supposed to say "Yes"? "Yes" to what? He wasn't asking anything. Her thoughts were swimming in multiple directions, yet she didn't care. He cared for her, and that was all she wanted to hear. She could feel that familiar strong tingling sensation from her fingertips which were still enclosed within his strong grip. It's there. It's fading? It's... gone.

"And it doesn't want the fisherman to get hurt. That's why, it's letting the tuna catch the bait. For the fisherman's sake."

She found her hands on both sides of her body where Derek had placed them before letting her go. _What?_ Her eyebrows scrunched and the lips of her gaping mouth trembled as she looked at him disbelievingly. _What?_

"The fisherman doesn't want the tuna… just the shark! And if getting hurt is part of the risks of catching a shark, so be it!"

"The fisherman has to understand that... the shark has a tendency to kill a person... not because it wants to, but because... that's its nature. And that these are all part of the dangers of catching a shark," Derek desperately tried to explain as he withdrew from his current position and moved to the side of his bed. "That's why... the shark... just can't let the fisherman... touch it."

"The fisherman doesn't care!" Casey screamed, turning to face him as she held on to the last string of her losing battle with her tears.

**"**But, the fisherman should let the tuna catch the bait... because the shark just... can't do it," Derek choked as he tried to fight his own battle.

"Just... can't... do it," his struggled to keep his words from faltering, feeling his hands shaking as he gathered a portion of his pillow under his curling fist.

"No matter... how much... it wants to. Because it likes the bait..." He let out a sigh of extreme frustration and defeat as he glanced forward, his eyes toward the bookcase, "but can't hurt the fisherman!"

And he threw the pillow in the air, smashing against the wall and landing forcefully on the small trophies atop the case which went crashing on the floor.

The phone, which had rolled haphazardly from the bed to the carpet, rang again and this time he grabbed and answered it, "_WHAT!_"

His face turned grim for a split second, but he shook his head and managed to calm his nerves enough to turn and hand the phone back to the owner.

"H-hello?" asked a still slightly disoriented Casey. "Matthew."

The name had triggered their eyes to come in contact. This name, so compelling that it brings them together and so repulsive that it keeps them far apart. Her senses were quite hazy but she managed to understand what the person on the other line was saying. Barely, but enough. She pleaded with Derek silently, so silent that only he could hear loud and clear. She searched and waited, desperate for him to keep her from making a mistake, from drifting far apart from him, from possibly not being able to come back - not that she was certain of this Matthew person, but that if he let this moment go, it might be the end of everything for the two of them. Just one word, she waited for just one word - a "no" to what she was about to do. But he could not give a response. He could not make a decision. Succumbing to failure, he closed his eyes and slowly turned his back on her; and that was the last strike, Casey had lost control of her tears. Silent and unrecognizable her sob may be to the person on the other line, but inwardly, she was devastated. With Derek's silence, they both did make a decision.

"I'd love to."

* * *

**A/N: **Hmm, heavy stuff. :P I've finally had the chance to use the Shark and Fisherman tweets! This was one of the most unforgettable parts of their tweeting, so I wanted to include it in the story. This was a little more dramatic and kinda tragic than the original (original actually had a happy ending), but I'm going to tweak the story, so I figured I'll just do it this way. I've inserted some extra dialogue and changed the original lines/tweets a little, but it's pretty much almost the same. The 'parking lot' story and Derek's racing weirdness are add-ons. Haha.

What do you think? Please review if you have the time! I know you probably have to go back to the first chapter to remember, haha. But hopefully, it's worth it. :) Thank you!

**Credits:** DerekVenturi and LifeWithCasey - for most of the shark/fisherman lines


	10. Chapter 10: Smacks and Delusions

**A/N:** I updated faster this time! Hehe, just to make up for my lengthy hiatus. No tweets included here and this chapter is an add-on, although much of the next chapters will be pretty much be different from the original plot (because I couldn't remember most their tweets anymore, hahaha!). Although, I will include the important tweets/parts (that I remember, and that I will have to dig using Twimemachine), if the flow of the story permits.

Happy reading!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LwD or any of the TMs and registered TMs included here.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Smacks and Delusions**

"No!"

"I knew it."

The littlest Venturi let the whole weight of her upper body slump on her feet as she assumed a kneeling position. She couldn't help but groan in disbelief at the result of the confrontation. And Lizzie, still wide-eyed, with her ear still pressed on the door, couldn't help but inwardly praise herself for having her theory confirmed. The three younger kids had been eavesdropping ever since they heard some unusual, beyond-normal Derek/Casey shouting fest coming from upstairs. There was something in the tone that was different from the ordinary, and if there is something _different from the ordinary_, they should be there investigating it.

"What? They're just talking about fishes," declared a puzzled Edwin, whose left ear had also still been glued to the door.

Lizzie rolled her eyes and released her head from its resting position against the wood, "They're talking about themselves. C'mon, _Sherlock_, and I thought you can sleuth better than that." To which Edwin responded with a dirty look.

Ignoring his stares, she looked away to the side, eyes squinted as she voiced her thoughts, "I knew it. I knew there's something going on between them. I can feel it."

"Well, I can't feel anything and I still don't understand how that ties up with fishes," he mentioned as he crossed his arms and snorted.

Throwing her hands in the air, Lizzie widened her eyes at him in disbelief and shot him an _are-you-serious_ look. From which, in a matter of seconds, she retreated, coming to a conclusion that insensitivity is probably an allele in the XY gene of the Venturi lineage.

"You're a Venturi guy. I guess you're meant to be clueless."

"Hey!" Edwin reacted in defense, shooting a menacing look at his McDonald counterpart.

"Shh! Footsteps getting closer!" Marti hushed and alerted them in a firm but whispered voice, as she kept her ears pasted on her older brother's door.

"Uh-oh, abort mission. I repeat, abort mission!" Edwin commanded in a hushed tone.

The three of them scurried to different places, although the two older ones in the group ended up in the same place, a few steps close to the end of the stairwell platform, to much of Lizzie's irritation. Edwin almost knocked her off of the stairs because he was dashing too fast; good thing, he caught her arm and prevented her from falling altogether. Marti, who climbed up the other stairs leading to the attic, moved a few steps down to take a peek at what was happening downstairs. Rolling her eyes and hitting her forehead with an open palm, she let out a breath of air and smirked, then ran upstairs to hide.

Then there was a moment of silence when the door handle began to twist and out came a heavily heaving Casey who jolted a little when she caught sight of the two younger stepsiblings appearing to come upstairs and toward her.

Lizzie gave Edwin's shirt a light pull, signaling him to start moving.

"Haha, Edwin, you're so funny!"

She started feigning laughter, hitting his arm as if she were getting amused at their own conversation, purposely ignoring her older sister's presence.

"Ow!" He reacted to the hitting, glaring at his companion, who glared back with a reminder. "Oh! Hah! Yeah, 'cause... 'seven eight nine'. Who would've thought? Hah!"

Casey hurriedly wiped her eyes dry and rushed to her room, almost slamming the door behind her. Just as she had disappeared, Derek peered from his door that was slightly ajar, eyebrows scrunched, and obviously irritated at the two boisterous creatures almost nearing the top of the stairs. Luckily for them, he wasn't in the mood for any scowling, butt-kicking, talking, or anything that involved movement or burning of calories at the moment. His gaze moved from them to the attic stairs where a hiding girl had been lurking. The said girl took a few steps down to meet her _Smerek's_ stare. His expression went from annoyed to dreary, eyes bearing sadness that she could've sworn she had seen once in the past, and Marti couldn't help but feel hurt for him. She wanted to reach out to her brother and give him a tight hug, but before she could even move an inch more, he slowly began to push the door shut.

"Edwin, you're so not funny," Lizzie announced with gritted teeth after the two oldest disappeared into their respective places in the house. They were now seated on the carpet inside Lizzie's room, figuring the Games Closet was becoming too claustrophobic for the three of them. Edwin was about to defend himself, mouth already gaped, finger pointed at her in preparation when he was cut off by Marti's words.

"He's sad. Ed... Smerek is sad," the little girl croaked amidst the forming of tears on the sides of her eyes.

"Marti," he reached out to his sister and pulled her into a hug, to which she responded by wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing into his shirt.

"We know, Marti," Lizzie ran her fingers on Marti's hair and rubbed her shoulders.

Sniffing and wiping the tears away from her eyes, she sat up straight and inquired, "Should I go and check up on him?"

"Hmm, not yet," Edwin replied after giving it some thought. "If what I heard was right and what Lizzie said was also right, then the shark is still in 'The Nile'."

"'The Nile'?" Lizzie cast him a questioning look, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, you know. 'The Nile', 'denial'. Good one, huh! 'Cause he's a fish, and it's... a river... and... I'm gonna shut up now."

She rolled her eyes at her stepbrother's ridiculousness as he pouted and crossed his arms, "Focus."

"Fine!" He shook his head and continued, "Well, they can't know that we know or they'll never talk to each other again. Think of the awkwardness."

"Ed, they're bound not to talk to each other anymore. Did you not hear how the conversation turned out?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! The shark doesn't want to eat the fisherman. We've established that point, okay!"

Since the two were deeply engrossed in their own argument, they didn't notice that Marti took off and went out of the room. She stood in front of Derek's door, exactly where Casey had been hours earlier. Sighing heavily, she lifted her hand and prepared to knock but then decided to keep herself from doing so, letting her brother think in peace – for now. Her eyes moved from the door to the table on the side as her head turned. She was staring at the phone on top when an idea popped in her head and her eyes shot wide.

Marti let herself inside the room again to a still arguing Lizzie and Edwin. Standing high above her floor-seated brother and stepsister, she dangled the phone at eye-level to distract them. Both of them looked at the device and then at her, puzzled as to what she was doing with it.

"I think we need some backup."

The other two looked at different directions as they tried to process what she was insinuating with her announcement.

"No way," Edwin reacted first.

"It might get out of hand!" Lizzie mentioned quickly right after.

But Marti wasn't to be stopped; she had thought it through and made a decision – although, not too sure whether the decision was wrong or right. But at least there was something of a progress, or a hold-back, depending on how it would turn out. She held the phone up and pressed buttons to dial a particular phone number.

"Who are you calling?"

"Where did you get that number?"

Inquiries kept flooding from the other two, but she only responded with a devious smirk and a shrug.

* * *

"Der-ek!"

Casey shuffled back and forth on her bed, kicking her sheets and carelessly throwing her pillows on the floor. It was almost noon and she just woke up to being awarded with the biggest headache of the century. Her frizzy bedhead hair was all over the place, stray strands still glued to her cheeks, and her entire pajama outfit was actually inside out, which she probably didn't notice when she put them on last night – and clearly, she didn't care. She extended her arms to reach one of her nightstands and recklessly pulled the drawers so that her belongings spilled on the ground. Without leaving the bed, she examined the exposed drawer contents lying sloppily on the floor. _Not here. _Grunting loudly, she continued with the same action on the other side table. _Not here, too! _She let her feet set firmly on the mattress, stood up, and stomped her way to the edge before getting off the bed. Scanning the bookshelf quickly for the cause of her midday rampage, she scratched her head briskly in annoyance. _It's not here!_

"Where's my book!" She finally screamed loudly while still wrecking havoc inside her once peaceful and organized haven, voicing out the words in between heavy breathing. "My _Wuthering Heights_ book, where is it?"

Giving the carpet one last stomp, she shrieked again, "Where's my book! Ugh!"

Without giving it a second thought, she scampered across her room, forced the door open and stood outside of her neighbor's door as if she were a disgruntled next-door person asking someone to lower down the volume of whatever _ruckus_ it was that he was listening to because she was trying to sleep. Okay, so she does that, too, occasionally. Regularly. But today, she was in front of that door to give the _good for nothing, thieving, conniving, prick, pig, slob, gaaaah_ of a person a piece of her mind and a lot of her mouth – meaning, her words.

Booming her fist in fast successions against his door, which felt like it would come _timbering_ down any minute if she continued slamming her hand on it, she called out onto him and demanded him to '_open the door this instant, or else!'_. When no reply came from the other side, she went on knocking angrily and hoping that her temper would wake his cold body so that she could get her hands on him, strangle him to death, and become permanently cold.

"Case!"

She heard a call from behind but she was too busy to pay more attention, still screaming and threatening her _annoying zit that won't pop_ that if he didn't give the book back, he might as well say goodbye to every single hockey card he had ever collected in life – plus his leather jacket and/or his precious 'Prince'.

"Casey!"

Finally, she turned around to see her sister calling unto her from the bottom of the stairs. She leaned forward to look closer, wiping some of the stray hair from her face.

"Actually, Casey, it's here, downstairs in the living room," Lizzie cleared, hoping that she wouldn't dash down the steps to lash out all her anger on her. She had seen, and suffered from, her _freak-out episodes_ before, but this was probably one of the worst ones to date.

"Huh?" Casey, still catching her breath, raised an eyebrow and placed both hands on the sides of her waist, as she tried to calm herself and recall how it ended up downstairs. Seconds later, her pale skin turned crimson red upon realization of her mistake.

"Oh."

"And Derek's not home," Her younger sister added, giving her a concerned look.

"He... isn't?" She replied, with a slight disappointment in her voice – that she would never admit having. "Oh."

They looked at each other for a little while, and each second passing by, Casey was beginning to show signs of vulnerability in her eyes. And before she could make a mistake of letting it dominate herself, she shook her head and put on her indifference, "So?"

"Honey, are you okay? Come and eat. You haven't eaten anything since last night," called out a worried Nora, who had just emerged from the basement after arranging the newly laundered clothes in their closet. Casey was currently dashing down the stairs to retrieve her 'lost/stolen' book.

"I'm fine," she responded with as little feeling as she could manage, and then went back upstairs and into her room.

The living room occupants – Edwin and Marti – and the mother and daughter couldn't help but look at each other with worried faces. Though, Edwin merely shrugged and shook his head moments after.

_Thirty minutes later..._

"My pen," Casey held her breath as she went through the contents of her drawer again. She had already cleaned up the mess that she had made a while ago; however, from the sound of her panting, she would have another round of hyperventilation and hyper-_Casey_-ation.

"My favorite quill pen. Where's my pen?" She hurried towards her computer table to see if she had placed it there absentmindedly. Negatory. Under the table? Somewhere in the bookcase? Under the bed? _No, no, no, no, no!_ "Where's my pen!"

_DEREK. _She knew it was his fault this time; she saw him eyeing it when he came in barging into her room weeks ago. There was something in his eyes that spelt 'no good' and 'I'm taking it'. Pursing her lips and squinting her eyes, she exited her room in a flash and halted at the top of the stairs before screaming her lungs out.

"Der-ek! Where's my quill pen!"

The other occupants of the house, minus Nora who was outside in the backyard, grumbled under their breath, rolled their eyes, and slumped lower in their places on the couch. It looked like there would never be peace and quiet and uninterrupted TV-watching in their house, ever again. Not when the _Derek, Der-ek, Derek!-_screaming Freak-enstein remained on the loose.

"Casey, you left it on top of the kitchen counter," Lizzie monotonously mentioned, letting her chin sink deeper into the throw pillow she was hugging.

"And, he's not home!" Edwin added loudly, rolling his eyes.

Moments later, they heard a set of footsteps coming down the stairs and heading into the kitchen. But they kept their eyes on the TV, desperately trying to learn the art of _ignore-Casey-and-Derek-_gami, which they hope were as simple as the art of folding paper. Alas, it wasn't – unless they knew how to masterfully bend steel. Because that was how hard it was to ignore their presence.

When the set of footsteps disappeared once again upstairs with a door slam, Edwin moved closer to the two girls, who then looked at him at the same time to hear what he had to say.

"Bad news, guys," he started.

"I think..." He bit his lower lip momentarily to control himself from bursting, "Casey is going cr-asey!"

And the two girls grunted, letting their backs fall fast on the backrest of the couch in unison as the _Edweirdo_ of the household commenced his laughing-fest. "'Cause, you know... Casey, crazy... they rhyme?"

"Ed, here's a toonie. Buy yourself another hobby," Lizzie forced a two-dollar coin into his hand, shook her head, and went dashing for the stairs.

"And an extra quarter. Take a bath! You reek!" Marti followed suit, rolled her eyes, and headed for the kitchen.

"Hey!" He twisted his head back and forth from the stairs to the kitchen and landed his stare back onto his right hand currently holding CAD $2.25. "Sweet, I can get paid to take a bath!"

"Oh, and I found that in your pocket," Marti added from way back in the kitchen after overhearing his victory screech. To which Edwin replied with glaring eyes.

* * *

"Hey, Casey!"

The door opened right after a soft knock had been made on it to reveal a smiling younger McDonald who proceeded to enter even without invitation or a quick response from her older sister. The said older sister was currently burying her head in her _Wuthering Heights_ book and purposely ignoring and deterring other stimuli to engross herself in the story – for the nth time. However, seeing as she couldn't complete block out the fact that her younger sister was in her room and awaiting a word from her, she let out a sigh and spoke, still without taking her eyes off of the literature in her hands.

"Lizzie, please, not now."

"Uhm, well..." Lizzie insisted anyway, even if the other person wasn't in the mood to start a conversation. "... do you have anything to do tonight? I think we should have a 'girls' movie night' – you, me, and Marti?"

"Can't. I'm going out tonight," Casey replied flatly as she quickly turned the page to the next material.

"Oh, well... where are you going?"

"Out."

"Oh-kay, maybe a little more specific than that?" Lizzie continued, wanting to extract more information, but also concerned that she might be pushing it a little too far.

"On a date, Liz. Out on a date," Casey shot a quick glance at her sister and exclaimed with a heavy sigh, although without the firmness that she had intended for it to have.

There was complete silence in the room for a short moment, until it was broken by the faint sound of light movement of feet on the carpet as Lizzie drew closer to her older sister. The latter didn't seem to bother lifting her eyes for the second time; instead, she chose to scan the words on the page faster than usual, just to block off other things that she decided to be 'not worth her attention' at the moment.

"Is there something wrong? You don't look too happy about it," Lizzie started as she slowly let herself sit on the soft comforter, just about at the edge of the mattress, looking at Casey with much concern, hoping that by initiating the _deep stuff_ conversation, she would somehow see her as a trustworthy confidante.

But Casey continued on with her nonchalant, monotonous, and indifferent answers, all the while still trying to make her mind dive deeper into the 19th century world of conflict and dark romance.

"I'm okay, Lizzie. Why wouldn't I be? I'm going out on a date with one of the most amazingly dashing guys I have ever met in my entire 18 years of living. He's sweet, sensible, caring, athletic, top of the class, and goal-oriented. Yes, of course I am happy about it."

"You've... gone out with him before?" Lizzie questioned, wondering if she had been missing anymore link to this whole Matthew issue.

"No."

"Then, how do you know he's sweet, sensible, _or_ caring?"

"I'm assuming."

Lizzie sighed and stared at the floor for a little while, trying to process everything in her mind. It was hard enough to deal with a stubborn Derek for years, but now a stubborn _Casey_? Although she really felt concerned and troubled for her sister, she couldn't help but want to grab her book and whack her on the head with it. Of course, she would never dare in a million years; unless desperate times really called for desperate measures. And she was pretty much weighing the facts to come to a conclusion – maybe this could be considered as a _desperate time_.

Letting out another heavy breath, she turned her head to where her sister was sitting whose eyes were still and probably forever pasted on the pages of her book.

"Case, if you're unsure about this, don't go and make a mistake if you have time to prevent it."

"I'm doing the right thing. I'm sure of it. It's just a date, it's not the end of the world."

_Yeah, but for someone else's world, it could be. _Lizzie grunted and complained silently, resting her cheek on her palm, elbow atop her knee, and shooting a wisp of air upward with her lower lip, making loose strands of her hair float. She was finding it almost impossible to continue on speaking with her; not when she was as hard as rock, as immovable as an oak tree. It was a challenge for her to tear her walls down, because her sister was also building it back up. She desperately wanted to help, but she had no clue how to go about with the situation.

"_I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions, and him entirely and altogether!_" Casey suddenly uttered in fast successions as she read aloud, making Lizzie jump a little from where she was sitting. Confused and startled, she looked at her sister like she was some hatter gone mad.

"How could these words come out with such vileness and contempt? That they weren't even meant and were certainly half true? How else could you begin to utter such captivating lines if you aren't hopelessly and ardently _in love_!" Casey continued on, still with much vigor and speed in her words, finally looking up and staring into open space and far beyond across her room.

Her facial features changed from being dynamically infuriated to entirely agitated as she closed her book shut. What was she complaining about? She definitely had no right to complain about the character's choice of words seeing as she herself had just done the same prior to coming to eye contact with that particular text. She sounded almost like Catherine as she went on describing her 'love' for Edgar when she described Matthew to Lizzie. Lies. Half-lies. But lies, nevertheless. Since when did she become good at lying? _Ugh, how hypocritical of me!_

But Lizzie knew she was lying. So, technically, she was wrong about thinking she was good at lying. How many _wrongs_ had she been accumulating this week, again? A lifetime plus one?

"Liz?"

"Hmm?"

Casey shifted forward and assumed a kneeling position, placing her book on her nightstand. Her little sister, who had gone back to resting her cheek on her palm as she went into silence a few moments ago, turned her head slightly to face her.

"Can I at least have a hug?" She softly inquired, a hint of sadness looming in the fibers of her blue irises.

Lizzie, giving her sister a half smile, straightened herself and climbed up on the bed, immediately wrapping her arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. Casey let her arms reciprocate the action and buried her face into her shoulders, trying her best to control the tears forming in her eyes.

"You know I'm always here, Case, even if others aren't anymore."

There was no audible response from her, only a gentle nod, which Lizzie could feel from the movement of the shirt fabric against her skin, and an even tighter hug. They remained in such a state until Casey broke the contact, putting a gap between them. They both chuckled, a sigh also escaping Casey's lips.

"And please eat? I can't take anymore of your _Cr-asey-ness_," Lizzie added, making Casey cast a weird look on her.

Rolling her eyes, she responded to her expression, "Don't ask."

* * *

"You better have a good excuse for this..."

Sam opened the front door of his place to a cranky-looking Derek, one hand on his waist, the other resting on the wall. Being the cool and composed half of the two, he merely gave him a smirk and an eye roll, as if he had expected this to happen and was well-prepared for it. He pulled the handle, opening the door wider, and gestured his hand in a gentlemanly fashion of saying 'come in'. Of course, the other one did not show signs of amusement. He squinted his eyes, and while dragging his feet inside, continued with his morning tirade which he performed rather animatedly for a supposedly 'tired' and 'sleepy' person.

"... making me wake up before noon on a weekend, and making me come here early in the morning!"

Derek's frustration was starting to increase with an increment of tenfold because of Sam's continued nonchalance and silence. He had finally sworn that silence is the most irritating thing that has ever been in existence and was only designed to subject a poor victim into a slow, excruciating, and inhumane demise. What was the point of making him come if he wasn't even going to speak? Saying '_Derek, I'm going to kill you_' would give him more relief than saying nothing at all.

He found himself being led downstairs to the basement, and even though this should've given him a sense of comfort because they usually hung out here anyway, there was something eerie about Sam's actions at that moment. _I was just joking about Sam killing me!_ He could feel his displeasure slowly fading and being replaced by curiosity and anxiety. Actually, he didn't know what to feel anymore; everything was just so mixed up in his system.

Sam disappeared into the dim-lit room as he racked his brain back into reality. He slowly followed suit anyway, treading down the stairs and into the entertainment room.

He had just entered completely inside the room when he felt a hard blow on his head. It caught him off guard and knocked him off-balance, sending him almost tumbling over the middle couch. He was still in the middle of gathering his thoughts and assessing the situation, holding his aching head with one hand, when he received another smack on the back of his head. Grunting in confusion and irritation, he turned around to see Sam holding a pillow with one hand, face serious but taunting.

"Dude!" He threw his hands up and shouted, shooting his friend a dark, menacing glare.

But Sam wasn't alarmed by his brewing anger, in fact, this had signaled him to send another heavy, fast blow at Derek's direction. And another. And another. And another, hitting him on the head, on his sides, in his face, and wherever the pillow delighted to land. And even though, Derek could now use his strength to be in the offense, he could not bring himself to do anything but merely defend himself by trying to block the blows with his arms.

"Hey!"

_And another._

"What is wrong with you, man!"

_And another._

"Knock it out!"

_And another._

"STOP IT!"

Screaming with much rage and animosity, Derek curled both hands into a tight fist and sent desperate lightning fast blows on the pillow, which Sam quickly let go and released to fall on the floor. Still feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline from the hits he received and the anger that boiled inside his body, he impetuously grabbed the pillow and repeatedly slammed it on the couch until the stitches burst and the stuffing spilled and flew everywhere, reaching as high as the basement ceiling and littering the floor. Turning around and seeing Sam's eyes widening, he dashed to where he was standing, grabbed hold of his shirt, and aimed his shaking fist at him. He was panting heavily, his eyes filled with ferocity. This was the very outlet that he needed to release all of the pain and the hurt he was feeling. He knew he had to do this; his friend deserved to pay for what he had done to him. _No one messes with me and gets away with it! _He looked at Sam straight in the eye with much hatred and fury.

Then all of a sudden, he put his hand down and released his hold on his friend's shirt. Feeling the intense energy leaving his veins, he felt himself shrinking, sinking, going down. He moved inches farther away from Sam and let his hands rest on the wall to support his weight. His vision was becoming a little hazy. Turning around and letting his back lean against wall, he slid down and sat on the floor, shutting his eyes and covering them with the edge of his palms.

"Let it out," Sam encouraged, moving to his direction and sitting on the floor beside him. "I don't understand why you're trying to push Casey away."

Derek shivered at the mention of her name. So, this was the reason for this entire thing. He couldn't help but be somehow curious as to how he knew about their situation. There was no way on earth Casey would come to Sam to divulge this whole drama. But there were just too much things in his head that he really didn't want to add another one to his ever spilling soup of thoughts and emotions. Ever since he let himself _feel_, it had brought him nothing but fiasco. _Stupid feelings, stupid emotions, stupid love, stupid Matthew, stupid Casey!_

"I'm not."

Sam reached out to the armchair near him and grabbed another pillow, threatening to hit him again.

"Okay! Okay," Derek quickly exclaimed, rapidly lifting his hands in defense and covering his face. "Okay."

"You've done pretty lame things before, D. But this one takes the cake. Are you playing dumb?" Sam threw the pillow back on the chair before facing him.

"You don't understand," Derek sighed, looking up at the ceiling and leaning his head against the wall.

"Oh, I really don't understand. I don't understand why you're letting her run away with someone else when we all know you have feelings for her," Sam followed, resting his own head against the hard surface, bending and bringing his knees close enough to rest his elbows on them.

"That's not true."

It was Sam's turn to let out a sigh. Being Derek's best friend and closest, most trusted confidant, wasn't always an easy task; to be more precise, it wasn't always easy to make him own up to what was already obviously laid out. Sometimes, he just wanted to whack him straight out with something harder, like a rock, or his own head – seeing as it's as hard as a tortoise shell.

"Do you still not understand that I'm ready to hit you all day with as many pillows as it takes to get the truth to come out of you?"

Derek didn't respond. And here he was thinking that _silence_ was the vilest abstract noun in all of English language, and yet he was seeking comfort in it. He was hiding in the deep creases of its solitude, hoping to have a fortress for the sensitive _feelings_ that he was currently possessing. He secretly wished that he could bury them all again and forget all of this ever happened. But he was in too deep, too consumed, too vulnerable.

"D, what's going on? What's keeping you?" Sam shifted from his position so that he could face him.

He was unsure; he really did not know how to answer this question properly. It wasn't as simple as playing hockey or pranking Casey. _Casey_. He let his head fall on his open palms and released a gust of air. Shutting his eyes tightly and opening them again, he felt his heartbeat pace quicken. _Casey_. It was a good kind of thumping at first, but it quickly changed to worrisome tugging.

"Derek."

He lifted his head and stared into oblivion as he forced his thoughts together to form some sort of an explanation for what he was currently feeling.

"I'm scared, Sam."

"Of what?"

"Everything," he mumbled under his breath. "You know how hard it is to keep this for years? I have never felt this way before. Ever." His lips curved into a half smile, which quickly faded as he took in a deep breath.

"I'm scared of what it will do to me if I listened to it," he continued, staring at the 'stuffing' mess he created earlier. "I'm scared of what it will do to her. I don't want to hurt her in the end when everything falls apart."

"When everything falls apart?" Sam cast him a questioning look, not entirely sure if he heard him correctly.

"What if we ended up like my parents?" Derek responded, turning his head to reciprocate his friend's look, but then quickly directed his stare back to the pile of mess. "Besides, the family will never approve of us. I'd rather see her with someone else. She'll be safer."

"But you are losing her, man. You're giving her to someone else. That's stupid," Sam shook his head and crossed his arms.

"What else do you expect? I am stupid," Derek reached for the small bundle of fiber stuffing near his ankle and flicked it in the air.

"You're making her hate you," Sam quickly caught hold of it falling mid-air and cast it aside.

"Maybe that's the best thing to happen," Derek replied listlessly, shrugging with eyes focused elsewhere.

"You're hurting her even more and making her cry."

"It's just temporary. She'll get over it."

"So, you're letting her cry?"

"As long as I don't see it."

"That's sadistic."

"It's not."

Sam sighed, almost ready to throw in the towel. He thought of how unusually stubborn his best friend had been lately and how Derek was really capable of such a degree of stubbornness anyway. He knew what he meant when he said that he was keeping this whole thing for years. And to his estimation, probably longer than what Derek would be comfortable in confessing – not that he was confessing comfortably. He knew, that even when he and Casey were still dating, there was something fishy going on with his friend. Not that he figured it out right there and then – he is still a guy and he doesn't have _girl intuition – _but it became pretty obvious later on. _Male code_. _Who was he kidding?_ He was quite sure it wasn't _him_ and their friendship that he was trying to protect.

"You're letting her choose the man she doesn't even love, denying her of happiness. That's just harsh."

"I am not! I am giving her _her happiness_ by keeping her from being hurt by me," Derek raised his voice; he was now facing Sam entirely, annoyance starting to be drawn again on his features.

"You're keeping her from being hurt, or you're keeping yourself from being hurt? That's selfish," Sam continued, nodding his head and raising his eyebrows.

"I'm selfish? I'm protecting her from me! I can be with her right now if I want to, but I'm not doing that because..." Derek stopped mid-sentence, trying to find the _right_ words to express himself, "... she is... different... and... special!"

"You're doing a pretty poor job protecting her seeing as you are the one breaking her heart," Sam calmly stated as he shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up to a standing position.

Thoroughly frustrated at their exchange of words, Derek also stood up hastily and confronted him, "What do you know! Have you ever even loved like this before!"

"So, you do love her," Sam raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward, his lips beginning to form a teasing smirk.

Derek could feel his face heating up, especially his cheeks. His mouth was slightly gaped, and his entire body frozen for a few seconds. _Crap. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ He probably killed himself mentally three times, or ten, for being a blabbermouth. But what else could he do? Sam knew it anyway; he needed not tell him anymore. _But stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _He couldn't help but just stare at Sam with widened eyes.

Sam only rolled his eyes at his friend's mini-panic attack and chuckled, which made Derek scowl at him.

"You do," he reiterated, now with a more serious look on his face, "love her."

Derek returned his coming-to-a-conclusion with another silence, but this time, he added a slow nod while looking to the side.

"D, love her right. You know what will make her happy," Sam advised, patting him on the shoulders then moving to the scene of the 'pillow crime' to cleanup.

Derek let out another heavy sigh, but this time his features lightened up. He found himself shaking his head while rolling his eyes as he smiled. Sam was pretty insane to do this just to make everything come out in the open. But he realized even more how good of a friend he was. _But next time he does this, I will annihilate him._ He shot Sam a glaring look, which was left unnoticed, as he moved to the recliner adjacent the couch his friend was cleaning up.

"But pillow-hitting, really?" Derek adjusted the chair to the reclining position, crossing his arms after.

"Hey, don't blame me. I'm only following orders," Sam raised both his hands up. "What do you know, it works! Now, help me clean up."

To which Derek replied with a seemingly never-ending, deafening laughter, "_Riiight_."

Although, really in the back of his head, he was itching to know who put him into this kind of trouble.

* * *

**A/N:** What do you think? I added a little humor because the last chapter was heavy. :D I also chose not to reveal much of Casey's thoughts about Derek, although hopefully her delusions showed what was going on inside her. Hopefully, it turned okay. Haha! Just wanna take this opportunity to thank my fellow Dasey shippers and readers who take the time to read and also review!

**Back story for Wuthering Heights (spoiler?)** - It was Catherine Earnshaw who said those words; and although they were beautifully composed, they were kind of just a 'there you go, you happy now?' description of her fiancé, Edgar Linton, because Nelly, the caretaker/maid (?), was forcing her to describe how she loves him. But thing is, Catherine loves another man (Heathcliff). So, hopefully it makes more sense now when it ties up with Casey and Derek's sitch! Although, I couldn't help but use it in the previous chapter for Derek's thoughts 'cause this line is just so darn beautiful! And my comment = Casey's comment. ;(

Special shoutout to the following:

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel** - Seriously want to thank you for remembering the story and being my constant reviewer! Not sure if you had to read it all over again, but lovin' your comment referencing the last chapter!

**Jess** - Thank you! Finally relieved to have used the Shark/Fisherman metaphor. Hopefully, I did it justice. Ahah!

**ZenNoMai** - Aww! Hopefully, I made it up to you with this faster update! :)

**CrystalFlowers** - Thank you! I would have to say, me too! LOL, complicated stories are awesome.

**Chanii3220** - Oh, gosh. :( I knew others would have to do that, too. Yikes, but thank you for taking the time to re-read everything! Means a lot to know that it was still worth reading over. :) I will try, I will try! I promise!

Please review if you have the time! ;) Much hearts.**  
**


	11. Chapter 11: A Date with Mr Perfect

**A/N:** Hello everyone! How was everyone's vacay? I was terribly busy so I couldn't finish this chapter right away. I honestly also had a hard time writing this one. I've once had to completely redo the whole chapter after finishing four pages of it already. LOL! But anyway, I'll put the rest of my notes below. Happy reading!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LwD, Twitter, Michael's (on the Thames) or any of the TMs and registered TMs included here.**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11: A Date with Mr. Perfect**

Derek was pacing back and forth, stopping once in a while to go into deep thought, and browsing personal belongings inside Casey's room for the last ten minutes. Fifteen minutes had already passed since she left with her date and nobody had any idea where she was exactly going – _nobody_, being himself, since he would never in his lifetime consider asking the rest of the family where she was heading. Not even if his life depended on it. Reputation beats breathing, apparently. If only he had gone home earlier, he would've at least stopped her from making the biggest mistake of her life – or at least stalled and distracted her until she couldn't leave anymore.

_Well, that's if I knew it was tonight!_ Sometimes, he didn't understand if Sam was for him or against him. He did manage to at least put some sense into his head (by knocking his brain off), but then he kept him from actually stopping Casey from going on her date! Okay, so that was his fault. He didn't want to come home until night time, but _damn it! _

Grunting in exasperation and scratching his head, he took the pink planner that he had carelessly tossed on the bed minutes ago after scanning the pages and started going through the entries for the second time. Nothing. No clue. Not even a number, a short message, or a mini puzzle to decode. In fact, the current date was left blank – and doesn't _blank_ mean 'no plans for the day'? Knowing Casey, she would never fail to keep her planner updated, especially when it comes to her gallivanting expeditions. That's why it always came in handy for him. To top it all off, she also hadn't put any entry in her journal for four days now. _Four days._ Isn't that considered as an act of felony in 'Casey Land'?

Closing the book shut and putting it back inside the upper drawer of the side table, he drew a deep breath of disappointment and let himself plop backwards on her mattress. His eyes met the ceiling where a bright yellow light came shining from the inside of a convex lamp. The entire room still held the sweet scent of Casey's body spray, most especially the bed he was currently lying on. No matter how hard he tried to keep his focus on his dilemma, he couldn't help but savor the fragrant smell that reminded him of her cascading locks. Closing his eyes and inhaling the intoxicating aroma, a small, coy smile graced the corners of his mouth. He reached his hand up and grabbed the first pillow that his palm had come into contact. Bringing it closer to his chest, he wrapped his arms around it, giving it a tight squeeze, before laying on his side and resting his head on its soft edge.

_Case, why do you have to smell so good?_ He lay on his back once again, still keeping the pillow tightly enclosed within his arms; his face now completely buried in it. If time would ever decide to stand still, he wouldn't mind it happening at this moment. He didn't believe in all that fairytale hullabaloo, but if he were to be asked what 'magical' meant, this would probably be a moment that would inspire an answer. It was more than floating on the clouds, reaching the end of a rainbow to see the pot of gold, rubbing a lamp to find a trapped genie and asking him three wishes, or having a fairy godmother who could wipe your sorrows away and give you a 'happily ever after' – it is more enchanting, more alluring, and more mesmerizing. It is the definition of pure euphoria, it is – it is kind of like – well – _a pillow?_

He chucked the soft cushion away from his face and rolled his eyes in disbelief as he was bitten by reality. _What's next? Lollipops and candy canes? _Groaning rather loudly, he glanced upward to the right to check the time – 6:33 pm. _Where in the world could they be?_ His face began to show signs of worry and frustration as his best friend's words started to play over and over in his mind like a broken record. _"What is keeping you?" "You are losing her, man." "You're keeping her from being hurt, or you're keeping yourself from being hurt?"_

Sighing heavily, he lifted himself up to a sitting position and rubbed his temples with his knuckles. He had to do something and he had to do it fast. What exactly? He didn't know. But if they really were somehow born with opposite magnetic poles and the universe couldn't pull them apart, then maybe he could use that force to bring them back together.

* * *

"Em."

Derek started as soon as the person on the other line said their courtesy greeting, biting his lower lip and inwardly cursing himself for convincing his senses that it was the only way to know anything about the couple's whereabouts. Actually, it probably was, so what else could he do? He didn't really want to speak with her anymore; in fact, they had lost direct connection right after their breakup – which didn't go so well due to his not-so-Emily-proof 'we're going to different universities, so it won't work' alibi. Who knew she could devise a full four-year phone/visit/Skype session schedule without even having to show her his first term timetable? She was worse than Casey at her organizing pinnacle!

_Yeesh. _He shuddered at the thought of him being strapped into one of those mind control chairs, wearing a helmet with huge flashing light bulbs, and following the orders of a sadistic, whip-holding tyrant of a girlfriend that is Emily. On any other day, he would rather be caught dead than answer a phone call from her, but he would be dead anyway if he missed this opportunity to speak with Casey. So, shovel the dirt and prepare the funeral.

"Derek?" Replied a rather bewildered but cheery-sounding Emily, failing to hide the excitement in her voice.

_Oh, boy. Here we go._

"Yeah, hey," he answered as casually as he could, switching the phone to his other ear. "Uh... well, I know we're not exactly in good terms right now, but..."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you finally called," Emily interrupted. "I've thought about it long and hard, and I've realized that you and I sh-"

"I need you to do me a favor," he cut her mid-sentence, gripping his phone tightly as he leaned against the driver's side door of his car.

"Oh-kay? Anything," she replied softly.

Derek paused for a while, feeling a little hesitation welling up from within his stomach. It was unbearable. Should he really risk the suspicion for a little information? It would probably be easier if he would just knock on Lizzie's door and inquire of her sister's night plans. Or how about Nora? Casey would at least notify her mother of her location, right? Maybe? _Yeah, go ahead. Ask the stepmother, she would know! _Rolling his eyes and cupping his forehead to ease the headache that was beginning to invade his thinking space, he swallowed before proceeding._  
_

"I need you to tell me where Casey and Matthew are."

"Oh," there was a little moment of silence on the other line before an audible expression of confusion was heard. "What?"

"I need you to tell me wh-" Derek began reiterating, bobbing his free hand up and down in mid-air for emphasis.

"Yeah, I know. I heard it perfectly, Derek," Emily interfered hastily.

"So?"

"So... why do you want to know?"

Derek stiffened and went once more into deep thought for a second. It really was never an easy exchanging of words when it came to her. Whatever happened to just saying what needed to be said? _Yeah, whatever happened to that, Derek? _Silently scoffing at his being 'getting told' by his own sarcastic conscience, he couldn't help but mouth 'shut up' inaudibly to himself. With tightly closed eyes, he blurted the only plausible alibi he could think of at the moment.

"I need to give her something."

"Seriously, can't it wait until after she comes back?" Emily replied, her tone notably raising.

"Didn't you hear? I _need_ to give her something. If I knew it could wait until later, do you think I would waste my time going into all this trouble?" He snapped back, equaling the irritation she was exhibiting.

"I'm sure it's nothing life-threatening," she toned down slightly, noting the impatience in his voice.

Derek let out a heavy sigh, not caring if it came out audibly on the other line, and rolled his eyes in displeasure. It was already ten minutes to seven, and he was going nowhere with this interrogation.

"Okay, let's see... I was feeling really devious this afternoon, so I thought '_hey, why not grab all of Casey's _oh-so_ precious collection of classic literature, throw them in the backyard and set them on fire?_' So, I did. And as I watched the smoke of burning knowledge rise into the air, I've realized... I really want to change my ways and become a better stepbrother."

He 'explained' animatedly, making hand gestures and looking towards an empty space, pretending to watch something ascend in mid-air.

"So, see, I need to give her this _fire extinguisher_ or she wouldn't have any Jane Austen left to read for the rest of her non-working existence," he continued, turning around and resting his elbow on top the car. "And guess whose fault it would be if that happened. _Yours_."

"Now, you're just being ridiculous," Emily declared.

"Just tell me where they are," he answered breathily, placing his hand on the handle and opening the side door, not wanting to further the conversation anymore.

"How do you expect me to know these things?"

"Because you're Emily! You just do," he rebounded, taking the phone off his ear and putting it near his mouth.

For a second, he thought she was going to keep mum because he hadn't heard anything from the speaker right after he held the device once again against his right ear. There were perceptible signs of heavy breathing but no spoken word or syllable. Not until a few moments of silence had passed that he actually received a reply from her.

"Fine. He said he's going to take her to Michael's."

"_Michael's,_" Derek repeated the last word almost faintly, his eyes widened as this brand new information began to dawn on him.

"Der, about u-"

"Gotta go!"

Tapping his phone to end the call, he carelessly chucked it on the adjacent front chair, turned the ignition on, and shifted the gear into reverse.

* * *

The atmosphere was almost like something that came out of her dream – fine dining, slow dancing, venue overlooking a beautifully lit skyline beyond the Thames River. It was magical, to say the least, and definitely fairytale-scene worthy. The waters illuminated as bright lights emanating from the tall scrapers and the street lamps reflected their rays upon the gentle current. Streams of car beams looked like glistening orbs flowing from the great beyond and zooming past her sight to infinity. And as her mind wandered across the pond, her ears were being soothed with just the perfect music – nothing blaring, nothing bland. Just a good amount of soft jazz and rhythm and blues. A small, coy smile formed on the corners of her mouth, sighing as she thoughtlessly ran her fingertip around the rim of the goblet holding her drink. It was indeed the perfect night and she couldn't ask for more.

"So, I heard you're going to Queen's for post-secondary studies."

Choking slightly from being startled by a voice that seemed rather foreign to her senses, Casey turned her head to find herself gazing upon a pair of emerald eyes which were intently fixed on her own; and although they were utterly captivating, they were very much unfamiliar. Unlike the pair that reminded her of the great oak, earthy and strong. But it could not fit in her fairytale of love; aren't gems more desirable than a bark from a tree anyway? _Well._ She felt her heart sink hard as she forced a half smile, briefly nodding to confirm the information he had gathered.

"Planning to get my BBA and then go straight to Law school," she added, taking her eyes off of him for a bit to focus on gently scooping a portion of the garnishing ice cream from her _a la mode_ dessert with the spoon she was now holding.

"Future lawyer," Matthew nodded, taking a quick sip from his drink. "Impressive."

"Thanks," she responded shyly, "But, I'm sure it's nothing like what you've accomplished so far."

"Oh, I'm certain we're quite even," he shrugged as his head tilted sideways for a second, a smug smirk gracing the edge of his lips. "Let's see..."

He drew himself closer to the table, positioned both elbows on top, and rested his chin on the intertwined fingers of his hands. "We've both graduated on top of our class, we're both goal-driven, we're both book lovers..."

He let his right hand glide beside her own, teasingly going past and reaching for the bouquet of roses he had given her earlier, which she had placed on top of the table, and carefully pulled out one. Staring deeply into her eyes, he huskily spoke, "... and we share the same love for poetry."

"_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate,_" he began reciting as he extended his hand and offered the rose for her to take, not releasing his gazing grip upon her dazzled blue eyes. A smile slowly registered on her lips as she surrounded the stem with her fingertips and took the crimson-colored flower from his loose grasp.

"Imagine what you and I could do together," he whispered in a low voice, letting his free hand now rest on top of her own. "We're like a perfect match."

_Perfect match._ Maybe this was it – her 'happily ever after', the silver lining of the cloud, the sunshine after the rain. It probably had been ever since, she just got side-tracked. It wasn't as if she was really completely against this whole 'date with Matthew' thing. This was her life, her destiny, in the first place before the whole ineffectual, metaphorical, pandemonium of a confession ever began. Her life was actually peaceful and simple. She had her eyes on Matthew and Matthew was mutually attracted to her – plain, simple, and _positively certain_. Never mind the hidden _whatever_ for Mr. Walking Conundrum. Maybe the fact that confrontation had gone awry twice was fate's way of saying that they were a 'no-no'.

Her thoughts were shortly interrupted by a series of vibrations inside her purse. She immediately withdrew her hand from his grasp and searched the contents to find her phone. When she finally snatched it out of the bag, she found it littered with lots of text messages, missed calls, and Twitter notifications. It apparently had been sitting for too long without her noticing. Not that they contained a string of important messages, because they're really almost the same in content, along the lines of:

_| DerekVenturi: You need to pick up your phone._

_| DerekVenturi: Why aren't you picking up?_

_| DerekVenturi: Answer the call, woman!_

_Ugh, you. _Rolling her eyes and grunting mentally, she huffed and looked out the window once more to mentally drown her re-found hurt in the glowing waters of the Thames. _You._

"Well then, incoming Gael freshman, as a more experienced sophomore, I think it is only fitting that I give you a tour of the university on your first day. What do you think?" Matthew interrupted her train of thought, dismissing the fact that she did look bothered by whatever she saw when she checked her phone.

Casey's eyes widened as she faced him with much surprise, "You're attending Queen's, too? How come I never knew about these things?"

"Maybe you haven't been asking much about me."

She was taken aback by his last statement. It wasn't something that she had expected to hear. Was it some sort of accusation, casual rebound, a silly joke? But whatever it was, it definitely had a lot of truth attached to it. So, she wasn't really as interested as she thought she was before, but that doesn't mean she couldn't start being more interested now, right?

"So, your response?" Matthew reminded, waving his hand in front of her face to break her from her dazed state.

"Sorry?" She answered faintly as she tried to recall what he was asking about.

"Will you take the offer?"

"Oh, uhm, sure. I'd love that," a faint smile crept upon her features.

"Except," she quickly interjected, wiping the small sign of pleasure from her lips, "Derek will be there, too, and I'm _sure_ he'll need all the help he can get to keep himself out of trouble on the first day."

"Who's Derek?"

But Casey went on thinking out loud without paying attention to his question, "I can't believe I would have to do this all over again. Every time he makes a mess, I'm the one who cleans it up. Like I'm this... eternal babysitter. _Without pay!_"

Grunting quite audibly, she blurted in frustration, "He's gonna ruin everything!"

"Your... little brother?" Matthew hesitantly inquired as he stared at her with much bewilderment.

"_Step_-brother."

There was silence for a while between the two as Casey continued on with her train of thoughts and Matthew took the time to finish the contents of his glass. It was then that he noticed that she hadn't really properly eaten her dessert. The ice cream had been thoroughly reduced to thick liquid and the entire dish was slowly turning into a pile of mush. He eyed her meticulously as he waited for her to mentally arrive back to their table.

"I'm sorry," she finally voiced out an apology. "He's my stepbrother. You've met him before, at the mall, remember? Unfortunately, he's going to Queen's, too."

"Oh, you mean, Mr. 'Financey'?" His eyebrows furrowed as his mouth broke into a smirk.

Her chest expanded and relaxed in one deep breath as she let her eyes roll to a full, "More like Mr. 'Infuriatingly Barbaric Neanderthal of a Stepbrother'."

"Our lives have been so unbelievably meshed and tangled up that no one, _even ourselves_, could pull us apart," she continued blurting in fast successions, taking her fork and waving it in front of her, unaware of the melted ice cream drippings that sprinkled on his cheek.

"I see you've bonded well," he took a napkin and wiped the sticky substance off his face, still much to Casey's oblivion as she stared out the window wearing an annoyed expression.

"No! That's not what I meant! Just..." she countered, turning her head to face him for a while before averting her eyes downward to her soggy-looking dessert. She jabbed the fork right through the cake repeatedly as she struggled to muster the words, "His existence... is... complicated."

"Well..." Matthew placed his palm over her busy hand, stopping her from murdering the food any further, "... complicated things can usually be made simple. Rid yourself of anything that makes life too hard for you. I'm sure a stepbrother of that age would be old enough to go out alone in a new environment."

He took the fork off of her grip with the other hand before bringing her palm to rest on it, "You, however, need to be taken care of."

"Not... that you're too weak to take care of yourself," he tightened his hold on her hand and smiled, consoling her when he noticed she looked quite perplexed. "I'm saying it because you're... special. Like a treasure in need of guarding."

He met her gaze with such intensity and uttered softly, "And I'm willing to do that."

"That's very cute, Indiana Jones, but I'm not that easy to get rid of."

Both of them withdrew their hands from its previous clasping like an automatic reflex after being unpleasantly surprised by a certain uninvited third wheel. It was as if the colors on Casey's face decided to go on strike when the words rung repeatedly inside her ear. It really wasn't so much about the rudeness of the words, but it was the familiarity of the sound that caught her attention. Simultaneously turning her head sideways along with her date, they were greeted by a tall, cross-armed, brows-raised, smirk-donned, leather-jacketed guy.

Casey's eyes broaden as her jaws hung low. She eyed him from head to toe, exclaiming, "Derek?" To which he responded with a casual shrug, his lips still bearing the smirk he was wearing seconds ago.

She pushed her chair back as she stood up hastily, leaving a startled and confused Matthew who was forced to watch the brewing disaster unfold before his very eyes, making his eyebrows inch closer together as he directed his stare from one half of the battleground to the other.

"What on earth are you doing here?" She exclaimed angrily.

"I'm here to do some salsa, c'mon," Derek swiftly took her by the wrist and led her away from their table.

"What did I tell you about dragging me!" She shook her captured arm and tried to wiggle away from his hold. "And they only play jazz here, you idiot," she hissed through gritted teeth as she continued pulling herself away, using her free hand to attempt to pry his grip open, looking sideways and wishing that they weren't catching too much attention.

"That'll do," he took her prying hand with his free one and dragged her closer to the dance floor and into the crowd, stepping backwards and looking over his shoulders to make sure he wasn't bumping into anybody.

When they had finally reached the middle, Derek pulled her even closer to him, their bodies now only mere inches apart. They were awkwardly standing stiff in the midst of intertwined couples swaying their hips to the slow beat. He kept his hold on Casey's wrists, in case she would decide to escape and leave him. But she didn't seem like she was going anywhere. She remained in frozen silence, head turned to the side and looking past his shoulder, carefully keeping herself from staring into his eyes. It was evident that she was uncomfortably controlling her breathing, making sure she wasn't inhaling too much of his scent. Once in a while, someone would accidentally bump into them, closing the small gap between the two as their chests pressed together. But she would immediately distance herself, although not too far because of his tight grip.

Sighing heavily, he loosen his grasp from one of her hands and slid his palm past her waist, around the side, and finally resting on the small of her back, gently tugging her even closer in proximity to his body. His thumb stroked against the ruffling on her dress, making her gasp and briefly close her eyelids. He could feel her shiver beneath his touch, but she was keen on not meeting his intense gaze.

"Case," he uttered breathily, his warm breath gently blowing on the side of her temples.

Casey bit her lower lip momentarily as she rid of the lump that was blocking her airway. His hot breath on her bare skin was beginning to melt the foundations of her feet. She desperately wanted to pull away and run to the nearest exit, but she stood glued to the spot, helpless and confused. She wanted and hated _this_ at the same time. Her breathing met the erraticism of his own, and although her eyes were not focused on his face, she could feel his gaze piercing through her skin, boring holes into her heart, and stealing its deepest secrets. Nevertheless, she kept her safe vision stance – away and averted.

Seeing as she was stubbornly rejecting his attempt to converse with her, Derek let go of his hold on her other wrist and lifted his hand to touch her chin with the tips of his two fingers, slowly moving her head sideways until her blue eyes locked in place with his.

"We need to talk," he spoke in a low voice, his lips quivering.

Casey felt a strong fluttering sensation in her stomach and across her chest, as her eyes welded with the impassioned irises of the man currently holding her dangerously close to his body. She slowly opened her mouth as she tried to compose a string of words in her mind but nothing but air managed to escape. She was bound, not exactly by his grip since he was clasping her quite gently; yet, she was bound steadfastly by his presence. She wanted this. _No!_ She hated this. She had to hate this. Finally closing her eyes to keep her from being distracted, she gathered enough chest power before speaking with as much confidence as she could muster.

"There is nothing else to talk about, Derek. Please let me go," she demanded, almost succeeding in fleeing from his arms.

But Derek grabbed a hold of her back with both hands, causing her to recoil and almost slam completely against his chest if not for her hands which she used to absorb the impact. Immediately restoring the little space they shared moments ago, Casey shot him a glaring look to repay his action, but he remained composed and silent, although she could see frustration in his eyes.

"Put your arms around me," he said almost inaudibly.

Casey's eyes shot wide, her lips parted slightly as she felt something akin to a drenching tide of ice cold water rushing from her head to her feet. Her heart skipped a full beat, making her unable to breathe for a second. She stared at him with the most skeptical face she could manage, yet secretly, she desperately wanted to give in and maybe do more than just putting her arms around him. _Why does he have to smell so good today?_ Parting her lips a little more, she tried letting out syllables, but she could only come up with one – _uh_. Shaking her head quickly and letting out a quick gust of air, she squinted her eyes and protruded her lips.

"No," she answered aloofly, keeping her ground and her hands curled up to a fist on her sides.

"Put. Your arms. Around me," he demanded with more fierceness in his tone.

Exhaling heavily in defeat, she raised both her hands and reluctantly rested her palms on his shoulders. Thinking it was close enough to fulfill his request, she threw him a shrugging look, as if saying _there you go_. However, she was slightly taken aback when he reached for her left hand, removing it from its position and gently pulling it back until her arm touched the leather fabric on his shoulder. Seeing as he was handling this very seriously – she hadn't even seen him smirk or sneer at her in the last few minutes – she sighed and put her other hand behind his neck, interlocking her fingers.

Oh, her poor heart. It didn't know what pace it was supposed to keep. One moment, it would seem to cease beating altogether; the other, it would pump so fast, she'd think her ribs would fail to keep it from bursting out. It was as if her whole world was spinning and any moment now, she would not be able to resist the drag of gravity on her knees.

Derek slowly snaked his free hand behind her back to join the other once more and started leading her to a slow dance. It had been awkward enough that they were standing relatively motionlessly amidst a group of dancing people, he had to do something. He was already having a hard time keeping his mind clear so that he wouldn't forget the lines he had practiced on his way to the venue, but the difficulty was doubled (no, tripled) by the sole fact that he forgot to factor in something in his mental scenario – Casey. No, see, Casey was there and he did imagine him speaking with her, but – this is Casey. There was the imaginary Casey and then there was the real Casey. But he only practiced with Imaginary Casey, but now he had to deal with In-the-Flesh Casey. And he was sure his 'i like you-you like me-let's do this' dialogue wouldn't work with this particular Casey! Besides, maybe she didn't like him anymore. She did seem to be getting too eager in holding hands with that flaky canned good. Why does this have to be so difficult!

_I can't do this. I can't do this.  
_

_Shut up! Just do it. _

_I can't. I don't know what to say anymore._

_Just do the damn thing and get it over with!_

Closing his eyes and swallowing hard to gather confidence, he slowly began, "Just listen to me. Hear me out for a few minutes."

"I-"

"Uhm, excuse me, but I believe this lady is my date."

The two immediately broke apart, surprised by the sudden appearance of someone whose presence they had almost completely forgotten until now. Seeing as this wasn't the first time he was interrupted by this person, Derek was the more irritated half of the pair. Tilting his head upward, he rolled his eyes hard and cursed under his breath.

"I will take it from here."

He could sense Casey being slowly led away by the hand from the area, making him shake his head as the last string of his control on his temper wore thin. But before they could go any further, he caught her by the wrist, stopping her on her tracks and causing her to quickly swirl around. But his attention wasn't directed at her, he was busy glaring at the person whose trespassing offenses in their complex-enough relationship were beginning to become too irksome for his taste.

"Why do you always have to butt in every time we're having a conversation?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"

Breathing out a gust of air and scowling at his statement, Derek hastily let go of Casey's hand and rushed to where Matthew was standing. Usually, he could manage to keep his cool whenever someone tried to test his temper, but this one was crossing the threshold line.

"Are you trying to mess with me?"

Alarmed at the sudden turn of events and the fact that the three of them were drawing unwanted attention from the couples on the dance floor and even those who are seated and dining, Casey drew closer behind Derek and gave him a warning tug on his arms.

"Derek, please. Don't make a scene."

"Derek, right?" Matthew spoke, a mischievous smirk forming across his lips. "Casey's _stepbrother_?"

Derek stood motionlessly as his spat-with-contempt words registered in his head. His eyes burned with hatred and disbelief; he knew exactly what he was insinuating. His chest heaved heavily as his lenses zoomed in on his foe. He let his tongue roll on the side of his cheek as his nostrils flared, but he couldn't get himself to utter anything. Not even a single trash talk. It was like being stabbed with a million sharp knives raining down from the sky, piercing him rapidly, again and again. He didn't realize how infuriating a smirk on a face could be, knowing that it had also been almost a daily occurrence on his face; he didn't realize it, until now. And guess what else he hadn't realized until that moment? Reality. This was reality. And it hit him hard in the face without even landing a physical blow on his skin.

"Maybe you're forgetting who you are in her life, _bro_."

"Enough!" Casey shrieked, clasping her forehead as she moved backward, trying to gain balance.

"_You_ and Casey? You must be out of your mind," Matthew persisted on insulting Derek, sneering and crossing his arms, ignoring his date's outburst.

"What did you just say?" Derek tensed, curling his fingers into a tight fist, his nails almost puncturing his skin.

Two tall men suddenly showed up and came into the scene, having given orders by the manager after becoming aware of the commotion in the dining hall. They halted the two just in time – especially Derek, who almost launched his fist into the other's face. They put extra barring on the pair to avoid reaching each other by extending their hands in the middle and pushing them far apart with their arms.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm afraid I would have to ask you to leave the premises. You are causing a public disturbance and if you don't leave immediately, we will have to inform the authority," one of the employees notified Derek sternly, keeping him from moving. But he kept his infuriated look toward the object of his boiling anger.

"You heard him. Get out of here. And stay away from _my_ girl."

Derek grunted loudly with visibly gnashing teeth, boldly pushing his way and advancing toward him, but he was prevented from moving any further by the strong grip on his arms, now doubled due to the other man moving from Matthew's side to his, preventing him from sending a blow. Matthew rapidly stepped a foot backward to completely take himself out of his perimeter of reach.

"Der-ek!" Casey shouted from the side, pulling him hard by the hem of his shirt.

"Derek!" A second voice called out from the far right, the person quickly dashing toward the epicentre of the tumultuous situation.

All eyes turned to see a blonde-haired lady dressed in red running hastily, grabbing Derek by the arm and nervously smiling at the two men, "I'm so sorry for this."

She took him to the far side, away from the scene of crime, as the rest of the people returned to their previous activities – although still eyeing the participants of the argument once in a while, obviously making them the object of discussion and gossip. She ignored the dirty looks and stared at Derek with furrowed brows but with much concern.

Casey followed the two with her eyes. She couldn't actually make anything out of the conversation because they were too far away and the music drowned any possibly audible conversation from the rest of the tables. She knew she was someone familiar, like she had already met her somewhere before. Moments later, she felt a hand holding her arm – it was Matthew, signaling her to return with him to their seats. Letting out a heavy sigh, she obliged, but not without giving him an icy stare or glancing over her shoulders to check up on the other two. She wasn't exactly sure what or who she should be getting more annoyed at; she wasn't even sure if she should be annoyed. Heck, she was so confused, she didn't really know what she should be feeling right now.

And just before they had gotten halfway through to their reserved table, Casey saw Derek and his companion exiting through the door, leaving her even more perplexed than she was seconds ago.

* * *

**A/N: **So, Matthew turned out to be more evil than we thought. Looks like Marti was right again, he did look like Tru-scum (chap 8). LOL! Sorry, my brain is a little fried because of sleepless nights, so hopefully this still turned out okay and you can still see what was happening. Casey's confused, you guys are also probably confused, I am a little confused. Let's be confused together. Hahah!

I'm not actually sure about the interior or the atmosphere of 'Michael's on the Thames' restaurant, but this is a real restaurant in London, Ontario. I just made up the description to fit the story. I'm not affiliated with them (please don't sue me, yikes).

Again, many many many thanks to those who have taken the time to review the story! It means a lot to me to see you give your inputs. Also, new fave-rs and subscribers, welcome to the story and thank you so much!

Special shoutout to** Dark-Supernatural-Angel, ZenNoMai, VeVe2491 (Lovin' your enthusiasm, haha!), CrystalFlowers, Kariana6, **and** HopelesslyInLove13.**

Please review if you have the time! :)

Shoutout to **DerekVenturi** and **LifeWithCasey** on Twitter. Whatever happened to you two? Miss you!


	12. Chapter 12: The Runaway Girlfriend

**A/N: **Hello, everyone! I'm finally back with another update! I know you guys are itching to know who that girl in the last chapter was, but.. she will not make an appearance here, so you'll have to find that out later on. :) Happy reading and enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own LwD, Twitter, or any of the TMs and registered TMs included here.**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 12: The Runaway "Girlfriend"**

The busy buzzing of the night resumed and continued on after the brief unpleasant situation that had occurred on the dance floor moments ago. Almost everyone present in the scene had already carried on with their previous engagements, brushing off the encounter as if it was just some half-time nuisance. There were still a few who couldn't drop the issue easily, and their occasional glances were beginning to cause extreme discomfort to an already very agitated Casey who had just made her way back to her seat. Suddenly, the place didn't seem like the peaceful and romantic haven she had considered it to be earlier in their stay. The reflection of building lights being cast on the Thames looked like prison bars, alerting her of impending doom. The music neither felt soothing nor alleviating; it was hurting her ears and making her feel nauseous. Gone was the fairytale-like scene she was thoroughly enjoying moments ago. And just like the beat up (thanks to her fork-stabbing) soggy dessert that still lay half eaten on her plate, what was once a _sorta-kinda_ beautiful night ended disastrously and half-relished.

_What is happening?_ Her heart pounded loudly inside her chest as her mind drowned in a sea of thoughts and weird hallucinations. She looked at Matthew who had also just settled back down, seemingly oblivious of her current flustered state. The surroundings started to blur in intervals, her vision was getting clouded. It was as if the whole world was closing in on her and she was running out of space to breathe in. It wasn't exactly the greatest feeling in the world, seeing as she was extremely claustrophobic. Suddenly, it felt like the last days of high school all over again. Or maybe even worse.

Nothing made sense. The Derek situation, the Matthew situation, the Derek-and-the-girl situation, the I-am-caught-up-in-this-sick-twisted-turn-of-events situation. Was she supposed to be hurt and angry? Was she supposed to be relieved? Should there be tears streaming down her cheeks right now, or should there be a smile forming on her lips? What was she supposed to feel? Nothing was clear inside her head, she was lost in translation together with the pieces she was trying to put together. It was a complete mental mess. She tried to find consolation in her date's presence, but he was too occupied with his phone to even give her the slightest regard. Cupping her forehead with her right hand, she rested her elbow on the table and shut her eyes tightly.

"Glad we got rid of that 'problem stepbrother' of yours," Matthew finally spoke, lowering his phone on the table. Seeing as she looked like her mind was nowhere to be found again, he averted his focus on the menu that they had requested earlier to be left behind in case of re-ordering.

Picking it up to peruse the selections, he continued on without giving her a second glance, "Serves him right. I mean, that dude is a total incestuous creep! Does anyone know about this?"

Casey almost choked on her own breath. She found herself completely stunned, gaping and staring wide-eyed at the glossy surface of the varnished wooden table in utter appallment. For a second there, she actually felt the urge to punch his face repeatedly, but her sense got the better of her and kept her from making a _Derek-ja-vu_ of that earlier fiasco.

Well, there was her consolation. Not that she was actually relieved – in fact, she was completely disgusted – but thanks to his mouthful gust of contemptuous words, she had finally come to a striking realization: this guy in front of her was the most incredibly egotistic, pompous, vulgar, self-absorbed wisenheimer of a human being she had ever had the misfortune to be dealing with. At least she had the patience to withstand Truman's arrogance for months, but _this_? He couldn't even keep his rudeness for more than six hours! _Ridiculous!_

Without giving it a second thought, she pushed her seat back vigorously as she stood as fast as she could, reached for her purse which was resting on her seat, and proceeded walking away from their table.

"Wait, where are you going?" Matthew halted her, gripping her by the arm.

"I'm going home," she replied sternly without even looking back, jerking her arm to release it from his hold before advancing quickly across the hall.

Frantically reaching for his wallet in his back pocket, he followed suit, cutting through a group of people who had just arrived and were currently being shown their seats. He received several dirty looks from the other diners who were once again forced to draw their attention to the chase. Looks like with all the ruckus they had caused the entire night, it was unlikely that they would ever be allowed to enter this particular restaurant again. Not to mention the fact that they looked like they were going to do an infamous _eat-and-run_.

_Or not_. Still keeping his eyes focused on the direction she had turned as she went through the door, he took the first card his hand touched, left it at the counter by the cash register and quickly informed the waiter of his return.

"Casey!" He called out as he managed to step out of the restaurant, almost knocking someone over as he desperately tried to catch up.

"Casey, wait!"

He continued with his bellowing, making sure she wouldn't disappear from his line of vision, "Casey!"

The said person didn't want to look back anymore, but her high heels were keeping her from moving any faster. She wanted to stop for a minute to take her shoes off, but the thought of running barefoot on dirty ground was making her cringe. It was a losing effort. She could actually feel herself getting more and more irritated by the second as her lungs heaved desperately for air. Aware that Matthew would be able to catch up with her any time soon as his voice started to ring fuller in her ears, Casey, unable to restrain her seething anger any longer, swung herself around and confronted him with much contempt in her voice.

"How dare you talk about Derek like that!"

Her sudden outburst caused Matthew to stop dead on his tracks and hold his breath. They were right around the bend where not many people walk through, so they were practically alone. This seemed to have given Casey so much more robustness in her tone and manner, since she began advancing toward him as she vented, making him back up a little.

"I was wrong about you! You are nothing like the person I thought you were! And what makes you think you can insult and humiliate people like that in public? Derek could be annoying, but at least have some respect! Oh, you are _top of the class_, alright. You're a Class A_ Jerk! _An _insensitive_, _tactless_, _arrogant_ _jerk_. Whatever this is that we're doing is _done_. I don't know why you're friends with my best friend, but this connection ends tonight!"

She almost had him pinned to the side of the building with her rough prodding on his chest, but it didn't stop her from staring as icily as she could, mouthing, with as much bitterness as she could rally, the very last words she ever wanted to say before leaving.

"And just in case you haven't noticed, I am _not_ your girl. _You_ must be out of your mind."

Panting heavily, Casey gave him one last jab on his chest before lifting her finger away. But before she could put her hand down, she felt a strong commanding grip on her wrist, making her freeze on the spot. Within a split moment, the tables seemed to have drastically turned. The courage she had mustered earlier vanished into thin air and the rest of her fieriness had been seeped to basically nothing. She tried to maintain her glare, but there was something in his aura that said he wasn't one to be messed with right now.

"You know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I am," Matthew spoke hoarsely, keeping his tight hold on her wrist. "You wanna know why?"

She couldn't help but show a little bit of fear in her eyes at this moment. This definitely was a side of him that she wasn't thrilled to see. He really was nothing like that sweet, smart, and composed guy she thought he actually was. Right now, putting him in his place was the least of her concerns; she just wanted to go home. She secretly hoped for a way out, that people would pass by and see them; but no one seemed to notice, not even after her series of loud outbursts. She was literally and metaphorically stuck in this predicament, waiting to be the recipient of his forthcoming string of words.

Staring deeply into her eyes, he let the answer spit right out of his mouth, "I don't even like you."

_What?_ It was like a series of tidal waves crashing over the walls of her blood vessels, spilling its destructive debris all over her body and drowning her insides in the process. Now she was completely confounded and speechless, mouth ajar but nothing but air escaping from the crevice between her lips. She shuddered under his grip and she knew he noticed it because he started wearing the vilest smirk she had ever seen in her entire life. She definitely was not expecting that. At all.

"I only agreed to put up with this joke because Emily told me to do it," Matthew resumed his confession, quickly casting her hand aside and releasing her from his grasp. "Said she wanted you out of the way."

Casey's face suddenly went _even_ paler than it was moments ago. She slowly retreated backwards, as this was the only thing she could think of doing at the moment. Just when she thought she couldn't be more shocked, here she was, gravely devastated. _What does that suppose to mean? _Her eyes began to water as truth after truth began to surface. She could feel the extreme heaviness in her chest, as if her heart had gone sinking further and further, loosening the bolts on her knees and trying to bring her entire body with it. _That's not true._ She shook her head in disbelief as she stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned._ It can't be._

"I- I don't understa-"

"Neither do I!" He responded immediately, cutting her mid-sentence; his frustration evident in his raspy voice. "But, I don't care, because what she says _goes_!"

This time, it was Matthew who was shaking, and although he was trying his best to hide it, the fast heaving of his chest was just too unusual to go unnoticed. His face showed signs of irritation as he kept her locked up in his stare. For a moment, no one dared to speak audibly, though in their eyes their conversation remained.

All of a sudden, as if something just clicked and he started springing once again to life, he began moving closer towards Casey, who also started taking bigger steps backward to keep the gap, causing her to bump her back on the side door of a car parked along the sidewalk. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate that the alarm didn't sound, she couldn't decide anymore. His features turned from agitated to sinister. Once again, a sly smirk crept across his face; but unlike Derek's, it was seriously menacing. He cornered her completely, letting both his palms rest against the door window and enclosing her in between.

"You care about your stepbrother, don't you?"

Casey's eyes shot wide, but she managed nothing else but look fixedly upon his glowing green eyes. She was still absolutely shaken by the revelations that had unfolded, and also terrified of how close he currently was to her body. It wasn't her intention to give him any answer to his inquiry, yet somehow, he looked as if he was satisfied with her silence, as if he actually found the reply he was looking for.

"I am not who you think I am, Casey," Matthew whispered, not breaking his gaze, "And I could be worse."

Lowering his face inches more into her breathing space, he traced the contours of her pursued lips with his eyes as he continued, "Let's just say... Derek's reputation at Queen's can go down the drain because of me. It's a little thing called... frat connection."

"And it's all up to _you_," his gaze traveled back into her quivering blue eyes as he spoke, "_You_ can make him or break him, _Case_."

Her breathing was held and limited the whole time that he was spilling his threatening speech, her eyes wide open in astonishment. This really was even worse than she thought. She didn't know which part was more nauseating: his willingness to ruin someone else's life and bring everyone down with him, or his skin-shuddering way of saying her nickname of close-relational endearment (read: strictly for family and close friends only). The tears that were building on the sides of the eyes now flowed over her cheeks; the sound of sobbing that couldn't go through her tightly-closed lips vibrated from her throat.

"So," he avoided her tears and focused on the strands of hair sitting on her shoulders, "if you want Derek to survive the next few years of his life..."

Letting the tips of his fingers trail the bouncing curves, he concluded, "... stick to the plan."

With all the anger that she was suppressing inside and somehow finding a bit of strength to fight back, Casey slapped his hand away from her locks and tried to push him far back.

"How dare you!" She shrieked with the little energy that she had left, pouncing his chest with her fist. But Matthew overpowered her shoves by taking both hands by the wrist to keep her from moving them.

"Let. Go. Of me," she demanded through gnashing teeth with as much fury in her voice as she could manage, her chest heaving heavily.

Shaking his head as his lips broke into a smirk, Matthew released his hold on her and kept a good distance away.

"I'll see you later then... what's a good word..." He straightened his posture, placing both hands in his jeans' front pockets, and gave her a wink, "... _sweetie_?" To which Casey replied with the most hate-filled eye-rolling she had ever done so far in her life.

He didn't see it. As soon as he said his departing word, he turned his back on her and proceeded walking away. However, few steps down the road, he twisted briefly and faced her once again, "Oh, and just so you know, I _hate_ poetry."

And as swiftly as he had divulged every single thing that she wasn't prepared to hear, Matthew had disappeared around the corner, leaving a distraught Casey, slumping beside the car that she was fortunate enough to have as a support for her weight.

* * *

She wanted to cry – again.

Casey had been silently crying for the past hour, just stopping whenever she heard movement outside her room. It was a quarter past twelve already and everyone started to retreat to their own spaces for the night, making it even more difficult for her to continue sobbing her heart out. Her back was against her headboard; her face buried in the pillow she was hugging very tightly.

Nobody questioned her wanting to go upstairs right away when she came home after making an excuse about a bad stomach. Although Nora did offer to give her something to ease the pain, which she faintly but firmly refused. Nobody knew she had to go home all by herself, waiting for an hour long at the bus stop and walking a few more blocks in the dark to reach their house. Nobody knew about her horrible date or the terrible dilemma she was forced to face and was still facing. Nobody was aware of the shocking and painful reality she was unwilling to accept – that all this time, she didn't really have a friend. Nobody... except her.

She didn't know what to do or who to talk with. Her mind was in a state of denial, but her heart was beginning to see right through things. However, it was still rather unfathomable to her that her own best friend, whom she had treated like a second sister, would subject her into such a horrific arrangement. Emily, of all people. Of all people! The person she trusted the most with her thoughts and feelings (apart from her mom and sister). Of all people who would turn against her. _Why Emily? Why her?_ Sure, there were several times when they had gone into petty arguments, but not even in her wildest dreams did she think that she would do this to her. Never had she thought that she would go this far to get back with her past. Unless there was some other reason, but even that lone thought of hurting her to get back with Derek seemed... incredibly insane! _Would she really do that to me?_ And to make her suffer like this in the hands of someone like Matthew? _Why! _And how? How could she plan for all of these things to happen when there wasn't even a remote sign of her and Derek getting together. Nothing! In all honesty and frankness, with all the chaos that happened tonight and what Matthew did, she probably had lost her true next-door neighbor. Forever.

_Matthew. _How would she even begin to express how utterly horrible that person was? Everything she thought he was was wrong. He wasn't even a tuna after all, and he was worse than a shark! He had the features of an elegant Regal Tang, but deep inside, he was as ferocious as a beast; as mysteriously terrifying as a sea monster. He was a hundred times worse than Truman, for Pete's sake! Here she was, all set to admire him, hoping that he would finally be the one to end the _jerkfest_ of a guy-lineup in her world of romance. Emily even praised him and told her how perfect they were for each other – like a fitting glove on a delicate hand. _Stupid._ She wanted to slap herself. _Stupid! _Not only did the festival of jerks continued to parade along the streets of her heart, she actually had the misfortune of meeting the king himself. Lizzie was right, she should have prevented it when she had the chance.

It pained her – so much so to the point of being unable to breathe. It was hurting her to know that all the blame had to go on her; it was her fault she was stuck in this awful situation. It was her fault that Derek's post-secondary life was now hanging perilously on her hand. She cringed at the thought of what Matthew's influence and connections could do to him. Maybe she should just inform the authorities? Of what exactly? She was so lost. All she knew at that moment was that it was all up to her - she could make him or break him. And she could never break him. Could she? But, after all, wasn't it really _Derek_'s fault. If only he had said something, anything at all; if he had stalled, thrown the phone out the window, teased her, laughed at her, mocked her – if he had done anything other than standing silently, anything at all, it could've ended up differently. _Technically, this was all his fault! If he had not gone out with Emily in the first place – if he had not been such a stupid, reckless, immature, brainless, morally reprehensible pig – if he had not existed at all...!_

"Arrrgggghhh-!" she screamed her frustration out in her pillow, hoping it would muffle out most of it.

But it wasn't that. It was definitely her decision and she couldn't blame anyone for it. It was her decision to let Matthew in and let Derek go. Matthew was her mistake, not Derek's. Her mess, her clean-up, right?

In the middle of her tearful contemplation, she heard the sound of creaking board once more, but unlike the series of fast or regular successions moving to and fro, it was lighter and slower, like it was taking its time to build up. By this time, she had stopped crying; her palm was covering her mouth to minimize the sound of her hiccups, observing the very faint motion traveling outside.

It stopped right outside her door. Her heart began beating wildly as she anticipated the next moment. She could feel the heat and the tension, as if there were no dividing walls and she could see right through the wooden entryway. But before she could move another inch, the heat dissipated as the floor began to receive more light thumping. The sound went farther and farther to the right, leaving the once-filled space empty and cold. Her walls seemed to have produced an eerie squeak as the door to the next room began opening – then it shut with a loud thud.

She lowered herself down on her bed and brought the covers up to her head as silence overtook the entire house. Clutching her chest as she curled herself into a ball, she let another sob escape from her lips.

* * *

"Derek, have you seen Casey?"

Lizzie inquired of a newly showered Derek who was seen trotting down the stairs while rubbing his hair with a towel. He walked past her as if she wasn't existing and plopped himself down comfortably on his recliner.

"What's a 'Casey'?" he then replied nonchalantly, rolling the towel into a ball and chucking it carelessly behind him.

"Derek!" yelled a grumpy-looking George who had been accidentally hit by the damp cloth on the gut. He quickly mimicked what his son did to the water-soaked towel and threw it straight to hit his head.

"Ouch!" Derek yelped in pain, turning his head around to engage into a glaring battle with the older Venturi.

"Will the two of you please stop?" Nora reprimanded them both, wincing while holding her huge belly as if she was about to go into labor any time soon.

George gave Derek one last menacing scowl before facing her apologetically, rubbing her shoulders to calm the poor pregnant woman's stressed nerves. Derek merely sighed as he resumed his former position, letting his head fall backwards.

"... She's not anywhere. I didn't see her leave this morning and nobody else seems to know where she went."

"... Yes, I did call the public library, and the librarian said she didn't check out or return a book today."

"... No, she's not at Smelly Nellie's either."

Derek sat silently as the others carried on with their conversation, eyes glued to the dark screen of his phone and thumb lightly brushing against it. He didn't even bother picking up the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV. Nor did he bother getting up to get food from the fridge (but that was usually Edwin or Marti's job anyway, and currently, they were at their mother's place for a last summer-visit). He just sat there with furrowed brows, mindlessly caught up in such a deep trance and not even a word or two escaping from his mouth.

"... Are you sure? Did you double-check?"

"... Not even Emily knows where she is."

"Derek, did you see Casey leave?"

"Derek?"

The three other people in the room were now staring at him somewhat suspiciously. They had finally realized that he had been sitting there almost motionlessly the entire time they were speaking. His uninterested demeanor over Casey's _anything-except-her-pranked-shrieking_ they could understand and completely expect from him, but not if he just sat without even turning the TV on. And he loved to turn the TV on (and max the volume to as high as he could go without his dad screaming at him; although, sometimes, either by accident or willful action, he would go beyond that), especially when Casey's _welfare_ ('_Pft, she's just overreacting; Meh, she'll get over it... eventually; What? It was her fault_') was being brought into a conversation.

"Derek!"

George patted his shoulder repeatedly until he finally showed signs of regaining awareness. He blinked his eyes and looked upward, meeting his father's pair of questioning eyes and raised eyebrows.

"What?" Derek casually responded, as if nothing unusual ever happened.

"Are you even listening?"

"Well, I'd love to tune in but your reception is a little hazy. What station are you on again?"

George pulled the headrest to bring the chair to a reclining position, "You better start answering properly or I will ground you until you leave for Kingston."

Derek rolled his eyes and sighed, "_Fine. _What were you saying?"

"Did you see Casey leave?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, okay? I didn't see her leave and I don't know where she is," Derek insisted, straightening his seat back to the original position, which didn't satisfy his dad but he didn't push the subject further.

"This is so unlike her. I'm really worried, George," Nora's voice croaked as anxiety began to consume her.

Deafening silence followed the trail of events. George was still beside Nora, holding her arm with one hand to support her weight and caressing her shoulders with the other to ease her worrying. Lizzie was rubbing her mother's back while lost in her own train of thoughts. No one dared to speak, hoping that in quietness they would successfully piece up such mystery involving a Casey-less room, or a Casey-less house altogether, early in the morning without a note of notice or a call of some sort. It was as odd as the untidy covers of her bed. She would never leave her sleeping space in a mess unless she was obsessing over an upcoming exam or extremely upset about something. But as far they knew, she had nothing to be frantic about. Her date went well; she looked sort of normal when she came home; and even though she had an upset stomach, she felt better and slept soundly. Well... right?

All of a sudden, Derek hurriedly rose from his recliner, rushed up the stairs, and disappeared into his bedroom, leaving the three slightly stunned and taken aback as they followed his steps with their eyes in unison. But not long after they looked at each other wonderingly and shook their heads at the same time, he re-emerged in a change of clothes and was seen hurrying down the steps, stopping by the coat rack to get his leather jacket, and heading towards the door.

"And where do you think you're going, young man?"

Derek froze in his spot for a split second before turning and facing the three, "Uh... Sam's?"

"Do you really have no concern for your stepsister? We're all worried sick here and you're leaving the house?" George responded in a raised and evidently annoyed tone.

"Look, there's really no need to be all worked-up about this. Casey's not a kid anymore, so you guys need to _chill_, okay? I'm sure she's fine. She probably just went out for a stroll. Who knows?"

And just as he finished the last sentence, Derek felt his phone vibrate from inside his pocket. Recovering from the slight shock it had induced on his body, he immediately took it out to check it. The room turned eerily quiet as his meeting eyebrows began to form a crease in his forehead. Apparently, whenever he wears this rarely seen 'serious look', they knew it was serious business. In fact, they could feel that something unusual was going on, they just didn't know what.

"There, she texted. See? She's fine," he quickly lifted his phone then slammed the door behind him.

* * *

No, she did not.

As a matter of fact, he wouldn't know if she had sent a message because, out of his anger last night, he deleted her number from his contacts list. And he wouldn't really waste his time staring at the phone and guessing who sent an anonymous text, right? (Even if he didn't really need to because he was all-too-familiar with her 'electronic voice' anyway?) _Whatever._ Delete. Delete. Delete.

No, but it was from someone else, someone whom he had forgotten to also vanquish from his list.

_| Are you free tonight? - Em _

It was the least four-words-dash-name he wanted to see flashing on his phone screen at that moment. It was annoying him and making him want to hurl, but since he got to use it to his advantage, he could at least tolerate it for a few seconds. For Nora's sake and to prevent the family from worrying any further, he thought lying was the most sensible thing to do. Well, lying was all that he could do. It wasn't the smoothest way to console them, but _whatever_, what does he know about that?

Here he was, currently situated inside the Prince, unsure of what he wanted to do. He wasn't really in the best of moods. In fact, he hadn't had a break yet from the internal turmoil that was screwing up his thoughts ever since last week. How he actually slept soundly last night was beyond him; he was too tired to care, too tired to analyze it. Everything just felt upside down to him – he hadn't eaten anything yet since the evening before, he actually took a bath before ruining someone's day (and before noon, mind you), and to top it all off, his "selective amnesia" trick failed in epic proportions. Why was it that when it comes to this _Casey_ person, he could never get that to work. He actually thought he had it nailed this time when he washed off last night's stupidity in the shower. He thought he could wash Casey off of his head. _Well, that was a waste of water!_

But the truth of the matter is – he is Derek, and as _sucky _as it might be, there will always be a shadow of Casey behind him. She was like this annoying parasite that was eating his brain, like a dog tied to a leash that was super-glued to his hand. She was the reason for all the embarrassment he had ever had the mishap of being associate with his name, the stepsister he _never_ really wanted. And he wanted to be mad at her, to blame her for everything, to hate her for coming into his life the way she did. He wanted to blame her for letting that pompous prick come between their already confusing 'situation', for not standing up for him at least, for making things extremely hard for him, for being the person that she is, for being _Casey_!

"Dammit!" He slammed his fist on the steering wheel before leaning his forehead against it and shutting his eyes tightly.

_Damn it_, because he could never really hate on her. As hard as it was to understand Casey sometimes, he could never not want to care. As much as he wanted to forget all of these things and even his feelings, he couldn't, because he loved her. He loved her still. He wanted her in whatever way she would come into form, in whatever way she would choose to come in his life. He wanted her, nevertheless. He wanted her anyway. Even if his pride got drenched in public humiliation; even if she chose to side with someone else other than him. Even if, even then. He really didn't know what would happen to this _thing_ that they have anymore, but right now, he knew he had to do one thing - he had to find her. Of course, he was worried. _Damn it_, he was worried. And he probably would always be when it comes to her.

_What the hell happened last night that made her so upset like that?_

_Where could she be?  
_

Grabbing the phone that he had chucked earlier on the other seat in front, he began dialing the number that had been playing in his mind since he got out of bed.

Apparently, deleting it was as useless as Truman and Matthew's existence.

* * *

**A/N: **This is turning out to be a whole lot more dramatic than what I first intended for it to be. I also had a hard time making it flow, for some reason. Hope it's still okay! Let's hope some light-hearted fluff would emerge somewhere. Again, the story has completely deviated from the original Twitter plot, although it will still come to the same ending - which is Dasey, of course (heh).

I apologize to my pro-Emily, pro-Demily readers out there, but in this story, Emily is well... as you've read. This is to lightly touch on the situation (I believe) that happened to LifeWithCasey (Twitter Casey) when she confessed to Emily about her relationship with DerekVenturi (Twitter Derek). Needless to say, she was not pleased and I don't think they ever made up? So, I guess it still has some Twitter plot elements! Just... more twisted and emotional? LOL! And Matthew? Well, I hope that answers why he seemed "too-good-to-be-true". I didn't really intend for him to be this bad, but it just happened. Hahaha! For some reason, I really wanted to make the "incest" thing a big deal and not let our lovebirds be together without a fight. Because I'm sadistic like that (hah!). I left out a few more details about what was happening (backstory between Emily and Matthew and other stuff), but it'll be clear later on.

You might also ask, if Emily didn't want them together, why did she tell Derek where they were in the last chapter? Well, it's complicated. Hehe. We still have to dive into that brain of hers.

Also, I don't think fraternities or sororities exist at Queen's University (except for their med school frat), so let's just pretend they do; plus Derek and Casey also mentioned that at the end of "Futuritis", so let's go with reel life instead of real life. :P

What do you think will happen next? ;)

Many many many thanks to my readers and reviewers! I appreciate every single one of you!

Special TY shoutout to my previous reviewers: ** Dark-Supernatural-Angel, CrystalFlowers, Lightning Eterna, Gingiie666, Len Bon, ColorxMyxWorld, FallOutGrl02**

Also thanks to my new sub-ers and fave-ers!

Please review! It makes us writers happ-aaaay! :)


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